


The Book Club

by SimoneX



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Book Club, Carry On Quarantine, Eventual Smut, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Gay Simon Snow, Inappropriate Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Not sure how smutty this will get but calling it "E" to cover my bases, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, smut starts in chapter 5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 53,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23670802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimoneX/pseuds/SimoneX
Summary: This college-age AU takes place in America. Simon and friends have a Book Club where he's the only male member... until the day Penny brings along an attractive classmate of hers (Baz). Sparks fly, and Baz introduces the somewhat stagnant and heteronormative group to fan fiction. Then COVID-19 hits and the group has to start social distancing. Cue Simon's financial problems and need for a room mate... and before you know it, Simon and Baz are quarantining together. The chapters will be "T" and mostly humorous in the beginning, but know that I am building toward something. And that something is smutty.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 173
Kudos: 170





	1. Simon, What Does Your Clipboard Say?

The Book Club, Chapter 1

Simon:

“For the last time, Aggie… I am not ‘a Peeta.’”

It’s getting annoying, but once Aggie has an idea in her head, it’s hard for her to let it go. I should know: I dated her for two years (on and off), and she’s stubborn as they come. I don’t know how many hoops I tried to jump through for her, and all that ever accomplished was her getting more comfortable yanking me around. She thinks I’m weak-willed and wishy washy. And maybe I am. But I am not a Peeta. 

Right now she’s looking up at me and her nose is scrunched up from her adorable little pout. She’s waiting for me to go along with it. Apparently she thinks this idea of hers is hilarious, and Keris and Trixie aren’t helping with their laughing. Certainly this whole concept is flattering to her… the idea that she’s a Katniss and I’m a Peeta. Which is more than ludicrous since those two love each other passionately and Agatha and I are more passionate about other things than each other. But that’s not how she means it of course.

We’re reading The Hunger Games right now in Book Club; we plan to read all three books in the series. This isn’t going to be very fun if she uses our book discussion these next few weeks to bolster her theory that she’s the fierce one in our relationship.

I mean, true: when we were dating I was the clueless pushover and she called all the shots. We never did a thing that wasn’t her idea first. And that includes breaking up. 

All six times. We’ve broken up six times in the past two years, and every single time was her idea, based on a mood she was having or something wrong she claimed I’d done. 

And every time we got back together? That was her idea, too. 

The problem is she’s really, really pretty. She has this long blonde hair that’s like white gold. And these soft brown eyes that have thick dark lashes. Her skin tans easily and she’s just so effortlessly healthy and clean looking. I love how tiny she is and how white her teeth are. She’s like a good-natured, slightly spoiled Barbie doll, come to life. And I’m proud to call her my girlfriend (when she lets me).

Which is not right now. We’re on “a break”, but meanwhile she’s coming to book club because this is a thing we’ve been doing for years.

I think of it as “my” book club, because I’m the one who started it, when we were eighteen and just out of high school. A group of us friends were going to our hometown university, and while we didn’t have classes together anymore it was fun to have a reason to keep getting together on a regular basis (beyond just parties). So I started this book club. 

It’s fun… pretty recreational and laid back. We read YA fiction, mostly dystopian novels with young heroes and heroines. Futuristic, fantasy stuff. We’ve done the Harry Potters, the Insurgent series, the Scythe series, and a whole bunch of one-offs. Currently we’re doing The Hunger Games.

“Simon,” Aggie persists, “you ARE a Peeta. Hear me out.”

I shake my head at her and sigh. But I’m listening.

“Peeta’s the son of a baker, right? You love to bake. You bring us scones every week.”

“Sometimes I bring cookies.”

“That’s a baked good.”

“Okay, that’s one thing in common. It still doesn’t make me a Peeta.”

“You’re a pushover. You’re a big teddy bear who gives back rubs. That’s a Peeta quality.”

“Yeah, well isn’t Peeta really good with words? Because I’m not.”

“You’re not terrible with words. In the Hunger Games world you might have been wordier.”

“You’re grasping at straws.”

“I’m persistent; I don’t back down. Just like Katniss.”

“Omigod, Aggie, Katniss kicks ass. You are—” I stop. She’s giving me a bad look.

“I’m what, Simon?”

What I want to say is that Katniss isn’t afraid to be different, while Aggie despite all her prettiness is the most ordinary person I’ve ever met. I’m not stupid enough to tell her that. (She’d never take me back if I did.)

“You’re adorable. You’re too sweet and perfect to get all mucked up in the jungle. And you would never hurt a deer. Katniss shot animals with her bow and arrows all the time.”

“He’s got you there, Aggie,” Keris laughs. “You’re a vegetarian.”

She sends Keris a withering look, but now we notice Penny’s joined the group. And she has someone with her.

It’s a guy… no one I’ve seen before. He’s looking cooly back and forth at each of us, a slight smile on his lips. He looks cocky and kind of judgy. But he’s fit as hell.

Everyone in the room perks up a little, including Aggie. I find myself feeling annoyed, again. At least when she’s teasing me I have her full attention.

“Hey, guys,” Penny says. “Picking on Simon, as per usual? I’ve brought someone along who’s thinking of joining our book club. Any of you know Baz?”

I haven’t seen him before. He’s not someone you’re likely to forget. He’s tall and lanky, but in an elegant way. He wears his clothes well… and they look expensive. I feel pretty frumpy in comparison, in my jeans and t-shirt. And Baz’s hair is great. Kind of long and swoopy. Agatha’s admiring it, I know.

“Hi, Baz,” Agatha says, “Welcome to book club.” She elbows me, and I become aware I haven’t said anything yet.

“Yeah, hi, Baz. Our book discussions are usually a little more interesting than this one.”

“You must be Simon?” he asks.

“Yes. And this is Agatha, Keris, and Trixie. Have you read the Hunger Games yet?”

“No, but I’m eager to start, now that I know I’ll learn so much about your personality and relationship with Agatha once I do.”

Everyone laughs, so I pretend to laugh too, but I’m chaffed. Is this club going to turn into a “pick on Simon” contest?

Baz:

He doesn’t like the Peeta jokes, that’s plain to see. But it’s easy to see why everyone enjoys teasing him about it… he gets so worked up. His face gets red and his nose gets scrunched and he’s practically sputtering. 

But in a good-natured way.

No one in this club knows me, except for Penny. We have an English lit class together. But I know someone in the club besides her… Simon. I noticed him on campus the year he started. But he always has his head in a book or is surrounded by his gaggle of friends. I don’t think he’s ever noticed me.

He’s looking at me now. I wonder what he thinks?

I’ve had a bit of a crush on him for a while now. Going on two years. Which he would know if he ever came to LGBTQ events, as I’m the president of the local chapter. But he hasn’t been to any of our events, so I’m left to assume he’s straight... and not even the supportive kind straight.

Pity.

He’s pretty dreamy looking, in my opinion. A little shorter than me, but more sturdy and strong. A naturally fit form and the most adorable bobble of dark blonde curls on top his head and around his face (but cut short in the back). He has blue eyes and a nice nose and pretty full lips. Also, he has all these beautiful freckles and moles, sprinkled all over his face and arms… probably his whole body. 

I’m trying not to undress him with my eyes. (That would be considered impolite.) Still, I’m more than a little curious as to where else those possible freckles and moles are situated exactly. 

I like his friend Penny. She’s a smart girl, fun to talk to. I think she mentioned this book club to me because she wants to hang out more. And that’s why I came. I had no idea I was going to see my secret crush here.

I think I’m going to dust off my copy of The Hunger Games…

Simon:

Okay. Someone has to get us back to business. I pull out my clipboard.

“Well, if you’re interested in joining the group, Baz, I’ll need your name, library card number, and phone number on this sheet.”

He takes the clipboard from me and looks it over. It’s a spreadsheet I made when we first started, and over the years the names of other people who joined our club have been added. 

Except all of them are crossed off now, because they stopped coming. Except for our original core group of five.

“Looks like you’ve had some turnover, through the years.”

“Yes, well, not everyone’s as committed as us to reading just for the fun of it. Everybody else ends up too busy with school-sanctioned clubs and jobs or what-not.”

“Mmmhmm.” He keeps looking over the list. “Looks like I’m the first other guy to join.”

“Is that right?” I frown and think about it. “Yeah, I guess that’s right. I never thought about it that way before.”

“Then it’s high time we had some new male blood around here,” Agatha chimes in, smiling sweetly at Baz. I swivel my head to look at her. I am not smiling. What the hell, Aggie.

He glances up at me and then turns to smile at Aggie.

Well fucking-A.

He takes my pen and writes his information on the clipboard (his penmanship is beautiful, I notice), before handing it back to me. I continue. “So I usually order the books for us… that’s why I asked for your library card number.”

“You won’t need to order any of the Hunger Games series for me,” Baz replies. “I have the complete set.”

“You’ve already read it?”

“A long time ago. I’ll have to re-read it, to refresh my memory.”

“Okay. Well we’re up to page 200 right now. Usually we read 100 pages a week.”

“That sounds fine. But what do you do if the book is 257 pages long?”

I stare at him, blinking. “Then we read 57 pages, that last week.”

“333 pages?”

“I’m guessing we’d do it 100, 100, 133.”

“Ah. Sounds like you have a very workable system, there.”

Aggie titters. “You’re funny, Baz.”

Fucking-A.

I clear my throat and continue. “Typically, if there’s a movie associated with the book we watch the movie AFTER we read the book. At my place.”

“Will there be room for me on the couch?”

“We’ll make room, Baz,” Aggie replies. 

“I print off discussion questions for us each week,” I add, ignoring her.

“What if one of us thinks of questions not listed in your official discussion questions?”

Is he pulling my leg?

“Then go ahead and ask those other questions,” I say slowly, like he’s an idiot. He raises an eyebrow at me, so I tone it down. “We’re pretty informal around here.”

Penny’s been watching the whole exchange between us with amusement. “Simon usually brings us treats, too.”

Baz looks back at me. I explain, “Well, I work in a bake shop. It’s easy for me to bring the day-old stuff. Doesn’t cost anything, either.”

“That’s quite a perk, having you in the club, then.” Baz replies smoothly. I think his eyes are laughing at me.

His eyes. What color are they? Light blue? No. I would call them gray. And they’re dark around the edges, like his eye lashes. 

He really is a good-looking guy. Aggie’s going to fall for him, for sure.

“So how do you all decide what books to read?” Baz asks.

Penny answers. “We’re supposed to vote. Whoever has an idea brings it up, and we add it to the list. Then eventually we get to it.”

“Right now we’re committed to reading through The Hunger Games series,” I state firmly.

“Any books on the slate after that?”

I know we don’t have any further books thought up, but I flip through the clipboard to “check”. I don’t want him to think we run a sloppy operation here. “No, there doesn’t seem to be anything.”

“Well I call dibs on picking the next book. When we’re done with The Hunger Games series.” Baz says, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Okay,” I say, “That’s not how we usually do things, but… okay.”

“Are you sure?” he asks. “Because we could vote.”

Everybody’s looking at me in amusement. They know we don’t typically vote. We typically go along with whatever I suggest.

“No, that’s fine.”

“Well, good. So have you started going through the print-off questions?”

“No,” I say, glancing at Aggie meaningfully. “We got sidetracked.”

“I’m done with my… bonus comments, Simon. You may ask your official questions now.”

“Okay,” I say, blushing because I feel Baz looking at me expectantly. I flip through my clipboard, till I find the question sheet.

I clear my throat. “How does Katniss react to Peeta’s declaration once they are alone? He’s just told the audience that he loves her.” 

Agatha responds quickly. “She’s pissed. She doesn’t believe him and she’s pissed. She thinks he’s just trying to build up sympathy for himself.”

“But that’s not really fair, is it, Aggie?” I counter. Because I want to help her think this through. “How does she know he doesn’t really mean it? I mean, turns out he does, right?”

“He said it for show and for effect. He doesn’t mean it because she doesn’t feel it in her heart too. If it was real they would both feel it, right? So it’s not real. She’s right to challenge him on that.”

“If she would just stop trying to be such a hard ass she might look at the poor guy and give him a chance. He’s a decent guy. He has qualities.”

Aggie sniffs dismissively. “People who say ‘I love you’, without meaning it-- they’re the worst. It’s empty words unless there’s meaning, true passion, behind it. In Peeta’s case it’s just a manipulation. He’s scared and he wants to cling onto her.”

I look at her glumly. Why do I feel we aren’t just talking about the book, here?

“Maybe Agatha’s right, Simon. Sometimes people think they’re in love with someone, but that’s only because they don’t know what real love is. Yet,” Baz remarks.

“So how long do you wait, how long before you can trust that it’s real?” I ask back, challenging him. Because this book club has a rigorous intellectual backbone.

“When it happens to you, you’ll know.”

“Has it happened to you?” I ask.

“That’s personal,” he replies, quietly. And suddenly this book club is way over my head.

“Wow,” Keris says to Trixie. “The club just got way more interesting.” Trixie nods back at her, wide-eyed. “I’ll go grab my knife,” she says. “So I can cut the tension with it.”

The only one who seems to be taking it all in stride is Penny. “Scones, anyone?” she says, as she passes the plate.


	2. Simon Starts Seeing Things Differently...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon starts seeing Baz around campus and realizes he has a bit of a crush on him. He suspects Baz may be gay, because he sees him in the LGBTQ office. Baz, for his part, likes Simon more than ever now that he's had a chance to talk to him. Book Club meets and they finish talking about The Hunger Games. Everyone is invited to Simon's over the weekend to watch the movie, now that they're done with the book...

The Book Club, Chapter 2

Simon:

You know how once you learn something for the first time, something you’ve never heard of before, all of a sudden you start noticing it everywhere? And it’s weird, because it must have been there all along… but you just didn’t have the eyes to see it, yet?

That’s how it is with Baz. I swear I never saw him once before Monday, when he came to Book Club, but now that I’ve met him I’ve seen him on campus twice this week.

The first time was across the lawn, when I was on my way to my class in Hibbard. He was walking away from the building (it’s the humanities hall), adjusting the playlist on his phone, I think. 

He didn’t see me.

He looked nice. His head was cast down and his hair swooped low on one side but was tucked behind an ear on the other. He was frowning just a little, peering over the top of his sunglasses to see his phone better.

My heart kind of lurched in my throat. I have no idea why.

We passed, and I felt his face start to turn up. I quickly dodged my eyes away and felt my cheeks get very hot.

The second time was an odd reversal of that first encounter. I was in the Davies Center, having stepped out of the line of foot traffic just long enough to lean against a Coke machine and adjust the playlist on my phone. I had ear buds in and wanted to listen to something slower and more thoughtful for a while. I was trying to decide between Lana Del Rey and Larkin Poe. 

I must have felt somebody looking at me, because I glanced up.

And there was Baz, sitting at a desk in the room right across from me. Looking directly at me. 

I think I must have blushed, because my face felt hot again. But I smiled and raised my hand up in a little wave. He didn’t respond at first… just kept looking. And then he did a little wave, too. I cleared my throat and stepped back out into the foot traffic. I walked away with the crowd until I was safely out of sight from him again.

Christ.

He was sitting in the LGBTQ office.

Baz:

Well, he saw me in here. 

That should be a nice little foreshadowing for him that I’m gay. I wonder how that will affect his view of me.

I like him more than ever, now that I’ve actually talked to him. He’s good-natured and masculine, but also he’s… soft. Like someone you can count on. Someone who would never be too harsh.

That’s how he is with his friends, anyway.

I’ll have to ask Penny more about him. Is it my imagination that he blushes and acts nervous around me? I feel like there may possibly be a two-way attraction here. How can I find out for sure without sending him running to the hills?

Simon:

By Thursday I’m almost done with classes for the week. I usually save my Book Club reading for the weekend, so it’s all fresh in my mind when we meet Monday. So it isn’t weird that I haven’t started this week’s Hunger Games chapters, yet.

Book Club. I wonder if he’ll come back to Book Club.

Sometimes people “join” but only come one or two times. I hope Baz isn’t one of those… I hope he keeps coming. Now that he’s pointed out that the only other people in the club are girls, and always have been (why didn’t I notice that before-?), I’m feeling kind of glad at the idea of having another guy around. I mean, maybe that’s why I get teased so much. I’m outnumbered.

I’ve been thinking about another reason I get teased a lot. Agatha.

I’ve admired her for so long that even when we’re broke up I act like a reunion will be (hopefully) right around the corner. I let her have the last word and I usually say things that are calculated to please her. I know she likes that, but on the other hand… I think that’s part of why she keeps breaking up with me. 

She doesn’t fully respect me.

It’s possible if Baz starts coming to Book Club regularly and gives her more of a challenge, talks back to her with a firmness that I don’t, she’ll start liking him more than me. Because my deference to her never seems to score me any points with her. But it’s weird because when I think about that possibility, I don’t entirely mind it. 

I think I’m starting to not like Agatha.

And if Baz is sitting in the LGBTQ office because he’s gay, then he won’t be susceptible to her charms, like I always used to be. And he’ll not go along with all her ideas. And I think that would be good for her… to get a little push-back. Certainly it would be good for me to see her get a little push-back.

On the other hand, Baz being in that office doesn’t mean he’s gay. It could be that he’s straight or bisexual or have any number of sexual preferences and will start liking Agatha back. I don’t think I would care for that much. I think it would sting a bit.

Not so much because I’ll wish I still had Agatha. But more because… my head feels funny. I swallow.

More because I like the idea of having someone else at the club. Someone who’s interested in me. 

There’s no guarantee he would be interested in me, even if he’s into guys.

But Jesus Christ, I’m just realizing that I really want Baz to be interested in me.

Baz:

I don’t have a boyfriend right now. I’ve dated and “been around.” But no one I’ve really been crazy about.

No one I’ve had a crush on, the way I have a crush on Simon. 

It’s weird because I always thought he was totally inaccessible. And now I’ve met him and… it doesn’t seem that way. He seems approachable. He seems really sweet. 

I’m definitely going to participate in this book club long enough to figure out what’s going on with him… to see if I have a chance. 

After that moment of eye contact, when I was in my office… I think I have a chance. I have never had eye contact with someone like that before and have it not mean anything. It means something, alright. I just don’t know for sure what it means.

And that feels so indescribably… exciting. Because if something were to come of this, it would be just “wow.” 

I already like him so much.

I can’t imagine how much I could like him if I was allowed to kiss him.

But I have to be sure, before I approach him. I don’t want to scare him off. He might not even know he’s not 100% straight, yet. These things have to be done delicately (... and now I feel like the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz, when she’s trying to figure out how best to get the ruby slippers off Dorothy’s feet without damaging their magic).

Oh, what am I doing. Whether he’s straight or not is in his head, not mine. I need to accept his limitations, whatever they are. They are not mine to meddle with. I’m setting myself up for a big disappointment, here. I need to get to know him WAY better before I start flirting with him.

Simon:

It’s been a rough weekend. I spent a lot of time thinking about Baz in the LGBTQ office. 

I spent a lot of time wondering why I’ve never visited or particularly noticed that office. 

Why I’ve never once questioned my sexuality before now.

I wonder if they have brochures to hand out to people. About how to figure this stuff out.

I think I’ve just kind of been… riding on the surface of life. Doing the things that “everybody” does. Doing what I’m supposed to do. I’m not really sure why I always felt that dating girls is what I’m “supposed” to do… 

What matters, I guess, is what I want to do. I have honestly never thought about that.

I mean, sure, I’ve thought about it as far as what my future career might be (not that I’ve come up with any definite ideas on that… I’m in my third year of college and still thinking about changing my major).

But I haven’t dated widely and I certainly haven’t dated with an open mind. 

I never thought about any of this before meeting Baz.

So my thoughts are distracted as I do my reading, and permeated with this weird self-consciousness I now have. But I’m determined to be prepared for Book Club, in case he comes a second time. He’s smarter than me — I can already tell that — so I’ll have to put in a little more effort than him, maybe. But I know how to analyze what I’ve read and I know how to build a valid argument.

I pull out my clipboard and take notes. This time, instead of settling for just the standard book club questions, I make the effort to come up with a few on my own.

Baz:

Bunce and I leave World Lit together. As I swing my backpack over my shoulder, she asks “Coming to Book Club?”

“Of course,” I say. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“What do you think of everyone? It’s kind of fun, isn’t it? Simon makes it fun.”

“Yeah, I like Simon. Seems like a nice guy.”

“If only he would stop going out with Agatha. She’s terrible for him.”

“Are they still going out-? I thought…”

“No, no; they’re broke up. But sooner or later they’ll get back together. Just watch.”

I frown at that. That’s not what I want.

Simon:

Monday comes, and for some reason I’m wearing my favorite jeans… the ones that fit just right… and a gray button up shirt (the one with no stains). I don’t have it tucked in, because I’m trying to look cool. But I do have the sleeves rolled up, whether or not that’s cool, because I have to be at least semi-comfortable. I’m used to wearing t-shirts, so having something cover my entire arms feels unbearably stifling. I have to roll my sleeves up.

The arms must breathe.

I put a little gel in my hair, this morning… just a tad. I don’t want to look like I’ve worried over my hair, but I don’t want frizzy hair today, either.

I stop by the bathroom on my way over to the library, just to make sure I don’t have ink on my face or anything stuck in my teeth. I look fine. I look good. Except for all these freckles.

Trixie and Keris are already there. Agatha strides through the door a few minutes later.

She’s dressed better than usual, too. Her clothes are deceptively casual, but I know she hardly ever wears skirts and she has one on today. Also her hair is curled just enough to hang in waves down her back, and she has full makeup on.

So that’s the way it is...

“Penny and Baz are on their way. I just saw them outside the building,” Agatha says.

“Well, great,” I say, taking a seat and fidgeting with my clipboard. “How was everyone’s weekend?”

So we’re making small talk when they come in.

“Hey, Penny and Baz,” I say.

“Hey yourself, Simon,” he answers back. With a smirk? Or is that what his smile looks like?

“What’s to eat today, Simon?” Penny asks.

“Oh; almost forgot,” I say, digging in my backpack and pulling out a crumpled paper bag. “Scones.”

Actually, there were only four left-over scones to bring from work, so I had to buy two of them with my own money. One is a sour cherry scone I bought especially for myself, and I’m hungry for it. Everyone else prefers blueberry or walnut. I dump the bag of them out onto a plate. Everyone reaches for a scone, including Baz.

Baz takes the sour cherry one.

There must be a look of dismay on my face, because he pauses and raises an eyebrow. “Did you want this one?”

“No, no. It doesn’t matter,” I lie.

“Okay,” he says, settling back into his chair and taking a bite. I watch him lick crumbs off his fingers after the bite.

Christ.

I clear my throat and pull my collar open a little wider. “So did everyone do their reading?”

“I almost did… all but the last twenty pages,” says Keris.

Everyone else has finished the book, including Baz. I’m impressed.

“So you read through the whole thing in one weekend?”

“It’s not the kind of thing that takes very long to read. Besides, it’s good. I got into it.”

“Well, great. I’ve been liking this story, too. And we can start the first 100 pages of “Catching Fire” next week.”

“I thought we watch the movie after reading the book,” Baz says.

I’m surprised he remembered that. “Yes we do, but we usually do the movie over the weekend between Club meetings. Can everyone make it Saturday, the usual time? 4 pm? My place?”

Everyone says sure, although Penny thinks she might be a little late. “I’ll text you the directions to his place so you can find it, Baz.”

“Better yet,” Agatha says, smiling up at Baz, “I can show you where Simon lives. Meet me here that day and I’ll take you right over.”

“Well isn’t that nice of you, Agatha,” Baz says.

“Awfully nice,” I grumble. Then I clear my throat and continue. “So are we ready for the discussion? How did you feel after reading this book?”

“Like I can’t wait to start reading the next one,” Keris says.

“A little traumatized, to be honest. There was lots of bloodshed. I didn’t take the death of Rue very well,” Penny adds.

“Well let’s take it back a little, before summarizing. Back to Chapter 21, when Katniss worries about what Gale’s going to think when he sees Katniss and Peeta kissing on the big screen. What is she worried about, do you think?”

“She still has a thing for Gale,” Agatha answers. “She doesn’t want him to be disgusted with her and lose him.”

“It’s like she wants them both, for a while there,” I say.

“It would be a tough choice,” Agatha agrees. “Gale’s the one she’s always been with, the one she grew up with. The one she thought she’d be kissing. But Peeta’s… there. And there are all kinds of practical reasons to kiss him.”

“It’s pretty shit for Peeta,” I remark.

“Yeah, but he’s happy. He gets her kisses. He loves her.” Agatha affirms, with certainty. She’s always so sure of herself and what the book characters are thinking. Really, what any of us are thinking (or should be thinking, at a given time). It’s also interesting how Agatha has fully changed her opinion on whether or not Peeta loves Katniss from last week’s discussion.

“It’s not fair to Peeta,” Baz says quietly.

“So what would you change in the story, Baz, to make it more fair to Peeta?”

“Katniss would be honest with him from the beginning. And maybe Peeta would have some choices of his own. Perhaps another love interest.”

Agatha laughs. “And who would that be? Prim?”

Baz snorts derisively. “What about Gale?”

“Gale? Peeta’s other love interest is Gale? Another guy?”

“Well why not? Stranger things have happened.”

“That is NOT canon, Baz.”

“Some people think all the best stories are outside of canon… between the lines. The ‘rest of the story’, the secret side of the story.”

“You mean like fan fiction?”

“Yes. Why not?”

I decide then and there that it’s a strong possibility that Baz was sitting in the LGBTQ office because he’s gay. And that would mean Agatha doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell with him.

I also decide that maybe I do. So I catch his eye, and I’m pretty sure my eyes are sparkling at him. He sees me and does a little double-take, but then just looks back into my eyes and smiles gently. I can’t help but smile back, but now I am definitely blushing. (I may have been right and I’m the one that has a chance with Baz.

He gives me a little wink and Agatha’s scowl is delicious. She’s not used to being ganged up on, and my smiling at Baz during this moment is no doubt highly treasonous, in her opinion. “Oh-! Really, boys. Grow up. This is not a fan fiction club.” I don't think she even understands that Baz and I just shared a moment. Agatha is too busy with herself to notice such things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire for beta reading this story!


	3. Movie at Simon’s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon visits Baz at the LGBTQ office and let’s him know he’s questioning his sexuality. Then it’s the Book Club’s movie afternoon at Simon’s. Simon and Baz share a blanket and a cuddle. And we are introduced to Simon’s horny foot.

The Book Club, Chapter 3

Simon:

It’s Thursday again and I’m walking through the corridor between buildings into the Davies Center. As I pass the Coke machine I look over at the LGBTQ office to see if Baz is there. 

He is, but this time he doesn’t see me. He’s looking down at his laptop, working on something.

I could walk right past, and he’d never know.

And that’s what I almost do… I almost let the throng of lunch traffic sweep me past his office, to the cafeteria. But then a feeling comes over me and I want to see him. I stop (the guy behind me runs into my feet with an “oof”). “Sorry,” I mumble back at him, not looking — turning instead to join the counter-flow of traffic going the other way. And I’m back at his office.

“Hey, Baz,” I say, lingering in the doorway.

He looks up, surprised. “Simon! What brings you by?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. Saw you and thought I’d say hi.”

“Well, perfect. Come in.”

I take a step closer, but remain hovering by the door. “So do you work here?” I ask, curiously.

“Yes, I do. I’m president of the local chapter here and I try to do two office hours every day. Always right about now.”

“So what do you do for the two hours?” I ask.

“Well, eat my lunch and just make myself available… in case someone wants to hang out and talk. Or ask questions. Sometimes it’s regular club members in here, and other times it’s new people.” He adds, “The new people are usually the ones who stay hovered by the door. Like you’re doing, right now.”

I laugh nervously and rub a hand up and down the back of my neck… a thing I do when I’m feeling self-conscious. I decide to throw myself headfirst into this cluster-fuck that is my life and lurch another couple of steps into the room. (Having mustered that much courage, the only thing left to do is collapse into the chair across from him. I do just that.)

“I’ve been meaning to stop here for a while, now,” I admit.

His eyes light up. “Oh? Were you looking for information about the club?”

I swallow hard. “Actually, more general than that. I was looking for information about… sexuality. Like the different kinds of sexualities there are. And how you figure out which one you have. If there’s a brochure for that kind of thing, that is…”

He smiles and looks at me a few seconds, then gets up and walks over to a brochure rack on the wall. “Actually, we do have something like that,” he says. He looks for a minute and then takes one out of a slot. He hands it over to me. I take it.

“Right,” I say, getting up. “Well, that should do it, then…”

“Hang on, Simon. Why don’t you sit back down.”

I’m embarrassed now. “What?”

“Might help to talk about it, too,” he says, gently. His eyes look very kind. My breath comes out in a kind of shuddering shake. 

Might be I need some kindness.

“I’ve never thought about this before… my sexuality. I never thought I’d have to think about it, you know? I’ve always just had a girlfriend.”

“And that made you happy?” Baz asks, like he really wants to know.

“No. Not really. I’ve always been a terrible boyfriend. Couldn’t seem to get it right. The girls were never happy with me. Agatha’s just the latest in a line of relationship failures. Starting with Mary Finney in second grade.”

“Everyone’s a bad boyfriend in second grade, Simon. But when you got older. What kind of problems, then?”

I shake my head; I look down. “Dumb stuff. I’d forget to tell them things they like to hear… like how pretty they are or ‘I love you’. Or I’d forget their birthdays… maybe show up late. Wear a bad shirt. Get too handsy.”

“Okay, I’m not going to attempt to unpack what you just said there until we have you feeling better… but that sounds like a bunch of stuff that straight guys have problems with, too. That’s not what’s got you questioning your sexuality, is it?” Baz is prodding, but his voice is gentle. I guess he wants a more real answer.

“It’s just— I’ve started noticing— I’m attracted to guys,” I stammer. There. I said it. Once I start talking, other words keep spilling out. “I think I may always have been, but never let myself really… really think about it, you know? As in consider what it actually means. And now that I’m conscious of it, I wonder if that’s part of why I kept messing things up with the girls. I didn’t have the right instincts because I didn’t have the right feelings for them.”

“First off, being attracted to guys is not the ‘wrong instinct’, so let’s make sure we’re clear on that. What you’re feeling is alright, whatever it is.” He looks at me intensely, like there’s a lot more he wants to say. I appreciate that. I can guarantee if I told any of this to Aggie it would eventually become a joke or a thing I did wrong or a mistake I’ve made. Baz is looking at me and hearing me and talking to me as if this is real. As if I am real.

“This is so much to think about, Simon,” he continues. “More than can be done over the course of one conversation. But you have my phone number now, so we can talk. About all of it, parts of it, or whatever you think of along the way. It might really help to sort things through. And if not me, talk to someone else. But I’d really like it to be me.”

I swallow. We’re looking into each other’s eyes now. “That’d be awesome, Baz. This isn’t the kind of thing I can imagine talking to my regular friends about.”

“Why don’t you give me your number, too, Simon. So I can check on you every now and again. I don’t want you to get embarrassed about this and then just disappear.”

My heart does a little flip-di-flip because it feels like he cares. “I won’t just disappear. I… I want to do this thing,” I’m blushing deeply now. “I want to find out what this is all about. Make an honest man of myself…” 

It’s supposed to be a little joke, but he’s blushing too, now. He hands me his phone. “Just type your phone number in.” 

I take his phone and add myself in to his contacts. I type in “Simon (is extremely awkward)” as my name, for another joke. A bonus joke.

I’m a mess.

I want to keep talking to him; I want to tell him everything. But then another couple of guys come into the office, laughing and talking, and I lose my confidence. I tell Baz I better get going.

“Okay, but I’ll see you this weekend, Simon,” he says. “For the movie.”

“Yeah!” I say, brightening a little. I’d forgotten about the movie. I’m glad I won’t have to wait as long to see him again. I walk back to the door and turn to see him again, before I leave. He’s standing now, behind his desk, watching me. He isn’t paying attention to the new people who’ve walked in, yet. 

As all this has been going on I’ve been kind of focused on myself, obviously, but now I see he’s kind of bewildered, too. 

Must get to be a lot, working this office and hearing everyone’s sexuality questions.

“Bye,” I mouth quietly to him.

He’s biting his bottom lip. “Bye.”

Baz:

Holy hell.

Once my office hours are up I have a class to go to, but when that’s over I’m free for the day. I decide to take a little solitary walk down by the river, to mentally go over today’s conversation with Simon and decide whether it was a good or bad conversation.

Overall, it was good. He’s questioning his sexuality. He’s talking to me about it. I have his phone number.

On the other hand, I think Simon is a bit of a mess. How mixed up in that do I want to get?

I mull that over just long enough to decide: pretty mixed up. I think I’m very interested in getting to know the psychological mess that is Simon Salisbury.

For one, I don’t actually think he’s a “mess”. He’s just confused, but then, this is all brand new to him. And he gets bonus points for already having a sense of humor about it.

I may not be an impartial observer, but I think a lot of his confusion and angst could be smoothed over by a well-placed pair of lips and set of hands. 

I think I have a strong desire to be the one who eases his worried mind.

But is that opportunistic of me? Didn’t he come to me in my capacity as an LGBTQ advocate?

No, I don’t think it’s opportunistic. I don’t think he ever would have walked through that door if it wasn’t for his acquaintance with me. 

Well. I keep thinking it over, and after skipping rocks over the water for a good twenty minutes I decide that I will just offer myself up as a friend and listener, at this point, and wait for him to make the first “move” (or not). I will go along with whatever his comfort level allows.

We’ll see how the movie at his house goes. We won’t be alone, but I should be able to get some kind of indication of whether or not he likes me from the way he acts when I’m in his house.

Simon: 

I can’t believe I told a super-attractive guy that I’m questioning my sexuality. Hopefully he doesn’t wonder why I chose him for the big reveal.

But nevermind that. I’m excited for the movie! It’s always fun to have the club over, but of course having Baz here, at my place, sitting on my sofa...? It’s just. Wow.

I spent a solid two hours cleaning the apartment. It smells good… and so do I (I hope). I’m freshly showered and wearing after shave. It’s a good set-up for movie watching here. I have sun-blocking shades and a spacious living room with a large screen TV. There’s a couch in the center back of the room, an easy chair on one side, and a loveseat on the other. All this is furniture I’ve gotten from Ebb, my mom, but it’s nice stuff. Comfy, too.

Everyone starts arriving a little after 4. Aggie and Baz arrive at the same time, so he must have followed her plan to let her show him the way over to my house. She looks pleased and pretty, with her hair up in a ponytail and casual clothes this time… sweats. I’m glad she didn’t try to pretend that any of us dress up for these movie weekends of ours.

Movie watching calls for comfort. And lots of popcorn.

Agatha plops down on the couch and right away says, “It smells clean in here! Way to go, Simon!”

I smile cooly and plop myself down by her on the couch. I don’t really think about it; that’s where I always sit. Just like Keris and Trixie sit on the loveseat and Penny sits in the arm chair.

There’s nowhere for Baz to sit but on the other side of me.

“Maybe Baz wants to sit in the middle, Simon,” Aggie says. “By me.”

“I certainly do not,” Baz replies, indignantly. “Middle of the couch is the worst spot. No arm rest,” he explains.

“Well, I’m glad to take one for the team,” I say brightly. “Does anyone want anything to eat or drink besides what I’ve got here? There’s bottled water in the fridge and plenty of popcorn.”

“I brought some wine coolers, Simon,” Penny says. “Anyone want one? There’s enough for each of us to have two.”

Everyone perks up at the mention of wine coolers. We all get up to get one. 

I start the movie, turn off the lights, and start passing out blankets. I’ve actually spent the last couple of days washing them, so everyone would have a clean blanket. There’s four of them, so I hand one to Aggie, one to Baz, one to Keris and Trixie to share, and one to Penny.

I usually share Aggie’s blanket, but I guess that won’t be happening tonight.

I sit down and Baz opens up his blanket for me. 

My heart does little cartwheels as I scoot closer to him and accept the upturned blanket. I wonder if Aggie notices I’ve done that.

Baz:

Some might think it forward of me to offer Simon my blanket. 

I call it good manners.

And it’s really gratifying to have him sit up beside me, under my blanket. There’s a space between us… but it’s a small space.

The movie starts.

It’s good; I’ve seen it before, but never under such interesting circumstances. And about ten minutes in, after setting down his popcorn dish, I notice that Simon is closer.

Close enough for our legs to be touching.

Mmm.

I stay earnestly looking at the TV screen, but my mind is wandering. And I am having a strong urge to touch Simon further.

But I try to resist that. I need to leave things up to him. I don’t want to push him or freak him out.

A few minutes pass, and then… mercy. He has his hand on my leg.

Could this possibly be an accident? I don’t see how.

My heart is racing a little, but I decide to step it up a little. I tentatively place my hand on top of his.

Simon:

Baz’s hand is on my hand… my hand on his leg. And no one can see this because it’s dark in the room and we’re under a blanket.

I turn my hand up and lace my fingers through his. His hand feels cool and rough. It’s much bigger than Aggie’s hand, I notice.

I like that.

He gives my hand a little squeeze.

Baz:

We’re holding hands, which is nice. But what if I…? 

I reach my other hand over and start stroking the skin on the inside of his wrist.

I can feel his pulse racing.

Simon:

My breath catches, when he starts stroking my wrist. Wow. It feels so good… so sensual. And even though hands and wrists are hardly an erogenous zone (right? They’re not, are they?) I am more aroused than I ever was with Aggie… even when I had my hand inside her shirt.

I think I’m gay.

Baz: 

I squirm in my seat a little. I’ve got an erection, now. I feel compelled to develop things a little further.

I start moving my stroking up to the underside of his arm, just above his wrist.

Simon:

I love what Baz is doing. I reach my other hand over and start stroking along the inside of his thigh, beside our two hands which are still laced together.

I hear his breathing change. He squeezes my hand again.

Suddenly Aggie is getting up. She has her blanket wrapped around her and she’s grabbed a couch cushion. She plops down onto the floor directly in front of the TV.

We have the couch to ourselves, now.

“You can spread out now, guys,” she says. “I’m going to lay on the floor.”

“Oh, thanks,” I say, letting go of his hand and reluctantly moving away from Baz. I grab another cushion off the floor and place it on the other side of the couch. I lay down, still under the blanket, but stretch my feet out towards Baz so I’m still touching him.

He pulls my feet onto his lap, and I slide forward just enough to let him. Then he starts rubbing my feet through my socks.

It feels heavenly.

Baz:

So now it’s feet I have to work with. That’s fine. I know how to do a mean foot rub. 

I do it through his socks awhile. But then I slowly strip his socks off, one by one, so we can be flesh on flesh. I hear him turn a little moan into a cough.

I’m really glad the couch is in the back of the room and everyone is facing away from us. Also I’m really glad that it’s dark and the TV volume is up high. Hopefully all that anybody can hear is the movie and some popcorn chewing.

I have an idea.

I get myself a pillow from the floor and tuck my legs up so that my legs are entwined with Simon’s legs under the blanket. Let’s see what develops with that.

Simon:

Omigod, Baz’s gorgeous long legs are all laid up alongside mine. I stealthily rub one of my bare feet up and down the length of him. I scoot lower. I brush a foot along his inner thigh.

I don’t mean to, exactly, but I brush my foot against his crotch. He’s rock hard. He gasps, and now I’m rock hard. 

Suddenly Baz sits up. He clears his throat and says out loud, “Simon, where’s your bathroom?”

“It’s over there,” I say, motioning, but he’s giving me a meaningful look. I sit up, too. “Here. I’ll show you.”

“Do you want us to stop the movie?” Keris asks. Her and Trixie have the remote.

“No, just keep it playing. We’ve seen this part.”

Penny’s looking at me quizzically, but she’s the only one. I get up and lead Baz toward the bathroom. “It’s over here.”

Once we’re out of sight, Baz grabs me by the wrist and pulls me closer. He leans forward and I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead he rests his lips against my ear and whispers, “After the movie… after we all leave. Can I come back? So it’s just us?”

His lips and his voice make me shiver. I nod my head. “Yes.”

He slips into the bathroom, and I head back to the couch.

I’m glad I wasn’t gone long, because Penny looks at me again when I return. But she goes back to watching the movie and doesn’t say anything (thank God). 

Baz:

The movie goes on forever. I don’t let Simon stick his horny foot anywhere near my crotch, but we do go back to holding hands.

I just had the fastest wank of my life in Simon’s bathroom. I’m sure everyone thinks I just took a shit, but oh well. Better that than them know the truth.

Simon is driving me crazy tonight! He’s so sexy. What kind of guy starts questioning his sexuality and then (a mere three days later) starts giving his acquaintance foot jobs?

When the movie’s over and the lights are back on, as everyone gets up and stretches and grabs another wine cooler, I cannot stop myself from looking at Simon. Drinking him in. He looks radiant. His hair is a little mussed from lying on the couch, and he keeps giving me the most delicious sideways glances. We talk about the movie for maybe 20 minutes, and then people start talking about leaving. Penny has homework and Keris and Trixie want to walk home before dark. I offer to walk Agatha back to her car.

“No thanks,” she says, sharply. “You and Simon might want to cuddle some more.”

“We were not cuddling,” Simon says.

“I saw what I saw.”

“Well, what’s it to you?” he asks, and now his voice is sharp. Agatha’s eyes get wide. “We aren’t together anymore.”

“Hmmph. Whatever. Good night.”

She’s the first to leave. When Keris and Trixie come to the door, Trixie says (in solidarity, I think), “We cuddle under the blanket, too.” Simon smiles gratefully and gives them a hug. 

Penny approaches him last. “Call me tomorrow,” she says. “And never mind Agatha. She’s just being peevish because you’re moving on from her.” She winks at Simon and leaves. Now it’s just the two of us.

We’re silent a moment. “Should I even bother pretending to leave?”

“No point now,” he says. “I guess everyone knew what we were doing, anyway.”

“Simon,” I say, “are you okay? Did you not want them to know?”

He looks at me, but now the twinkle in his eye is back. I’m so relieved.

“No, I don’t mind that,” he chuckles.” It’s kind of funny, when you think about it. I guess this is the first step in my ‘coming out’, huh?”

I step closer. “There can be all kinds of fun steps in your ‘coming out’.”

Simon:

At first I was horrified when Agatha said out loud that Baz and I were cuddling. But then I was annoyed that she acted like she still has a claim to me ( and relieved she doesn’t seem to know the “worst” of it).

But mostly I’m just really, really happy. Because of Baz.

I take a step closer. I turn my face up to look him in the eyes.

He’s so beautiful. And he’s smiling at me right now. But also he’s very focused, and he’s leaning toward me. He’s looking at my lips and his eyes are half-closing. 

I kiss his lips gently. They’re soft and ready. But I pull away to look at him some more.

I reach up and run a hand down the side of his face. I use my other hand to reach behind his waist and pull him closer. I want more. Another kiss.

Our lips meet again and he falls into me. 

Baz:

My hands reach up and grab the back of his head and neck. He’s not pulling away too soon this time.

I’m surprised how confident and skillful he is. He’s kissing me slowly, like there’s no rush. He’s varying the pressure, brushing his lips against mine sometimes, then kissing me emphatically in the next breath. I can smell him, feel his warmth, feel how solid and strong he is. 

I stick my tongue into his mouth and he moans. His knees seem to buckle a little bit, but he catches himself. I chuckle softly. “Prick,” he says hoarsely, against my lips… but he’s smiling.

On the one hand it’s unreal to be kissing Simon this way. I’ve liked him from afar for so long. 

But on the other hand, nothing feels more inevitable… this attraction between us is so strong. He’s honest and warm, and real. His lips are making promises, and for all the teasing and disrespect I’ve seen him get from Agatha, he kisses like a master… like he knows exactly what to do.

If anything, I question Agatha’s sexuality (if he ever kissed her like this and she remained unmoved).

He has powers. How else to explain how I’m suddenly laying on the couch, with him hovering over the top of me like a lover. Kissing me and making me reach up for his lips. I lay here, delighted, moaning, as he runs kisses up my neck and fingers through my hair. I mean, who’s the novice here? I’ve had sexual experiences before, but never like this. 

He’s full-on making love to me.

Except, of course he’s not, because we’re both fully clothed and we’ve only just started kissing. But there’s so much emotion and depth to what he’s doing. It makes me want to just cry for want of him.

After a while he pulls away and looks down at me. He brushes my hair away from my face and smiles into my face. His lips are darker, now… flushed with kisses. 

“All right for a first kiss?” He asks.

“Uh… yeah.” I’m kind of speechless. Certainly I am still trying to catch my breath.

He untangles from me and sits up. He pulls me up, too.

“That’s probably all I can emotionally handle for one night. Okay if we stop here?” he asks. Not for the first time I’m struck with how crazy-brave he is. It must be a scary thing to ask to stop, right in the middle of everything, like that. But he does it.

“Of course we can stop. That was a whole lot of action for one night.”

“Baz,” he says. “I’m definitely gay.”

This shocks me some. It takes longer for most people to figure themselves out after they just started questioning their sexuality. And labels are usually one of the hardest parts of all. 

“Not even bi or pan?” I ask, just to be sure. I want him to be sure and comfortable.

“No, I don’t think it would be fair to call me that. What happened between us just now was so far above anything that ever happened between me and a girl. Ever. Your lips convinced me, Baz. I’m gay.” 

I doubt it’s as simple as that. But Simon is an intelligent person, and honest. I believe him. And it fits with his fearless style. Apparently he’s not the second-guessing type.

“Well, now the world is opened wide for you, I guess. ‘The Gay World.’” I’m trying to make a joke like he does, sometimes, but it sounds flat. 

It sounds sad.

He looks at me and frowns.

“No, Baz. I don’t want ‘the gay world’. I want you.”

I look at him. He means it. (At least he thinks he means it). 

“Can I see you tomorrow?” he asks.

“Of course.”

“I’ll text you in the morning. Soon as I get up, okay?”

“Okay,” I smile.

He kisses me on the tip of my nose. He pulls me up and walks me to the door. “I really, really like you, Baz,” he says, as we kiss goodnight.

Oh, I really like you, Simon. I walk away like in a dream.


	4. Study Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Baz have a long walk and talk before their study date. There’s a romantic moment under a willow tree.

The Book Club, Chapter 4

Simon:

I wake up the next day at 8:35 a.m. Usually Sunday mornings are my lazy time, but today my eyes open and I sit up almost immediately.

Because I remember. Baz.

My hand on Baz’s leg. His hand on mine-! Our fingers laced together. The way he stroked the inside of my wrist with his fingers and ran a thumb back and forth up the middle of my palm… 

I touch my own palm that way. It makes me shiver like I’m feeling the tactile echo of last night.

We kissed. I almost collapsed when he slid his tongue into my mouth. But he caught me and did that low chuckle.

I called him a prick, but he didn’t get mad. He knew that I was joking.

(Agatha would have kicked me in the shins if I’d said something similar to her).

It was all so amazing I couldn’t go to sleep right away, after he left. I ended up on my phone, looking up my first fan fiction and discovering that there really are love stories about Peeta and Gale. Moreover, they are hot. And reading those stories stirred my imagination and something in me like The Hunger Games never did.

Of course, not everything that happened yesterday was good. I didn’t like being on the receiving end of Agatha’s knowing judgement. And I felt dumb to realize that everyone else in the room apparently knew there was something going on under our blanket, but politely ignored us. 

So we kept going at it like we were oh so sly…

Awkward. What is going on with my life? I don’t know; I am truly just winging it now, but whatever happens, there’s no looking back. I can’t go back to how it was.

I would never want to.

Why would I go back to years of solitary frustration and unhappy girlfriends? To keeping my feelings in and being a constant disappointment to myself? No thank you.

I get up and use the bathroom; make myself a pot of coffee. I eat a bagel on the sofa (let’s call it the “illicit snuggle” sofa, now) as I scroll through my phone.

I decide it’s too early to call Baz, but I might as well go ahead and get that phone call to Penny out of the way. She’s an early riser and I have some explaining to do. I’m sure she will not shy away from the question.

Two rings and she answers. “Simon,” she says, meaningfully. “You dirty whore.”

I sputter and pretty soon we’re both laughing. “I am, aren’t I?” I say at last, wiping my eyes.

“Well,” she admits, “that may be a slight exaggeration. But could you please fill me in on how we got to this… point?”

“It’s not hard to explain, really. I like Baz.”

“Yes, but were you aware you even liked guys?? Or did you just forget to mention that to me?”

She can’t see me, but I shrug and shake my head. “I… didn’t realize that until recently. Very recently. I would say it’s probably been there all along, but... I just… Penny, you know how I am. I didn’t know.”

“So you met Baz, and then you knew?”

“Exactly.”

“Have you been seeing each other outside of Book Club? Baz never said a word.”

“Not ‘seeing’ each other, but we did run into each other a couple times on campus. Thursday I talked to him about… ‘stuff’ in the LGBTQ office, so he had an idea I was… thinking on this.”

“So last night was the first time you ever… cuddled?”

“Yep,” I said, popping the p. “But I’m going to call him today and see if he’ll go out with me.”

“Well, if he doesn’t after last night, I’d be very surprised.”

“I hope so, Penny. But I really can’t assume anything. I’m sure I caught him off guard with... all that stuff under the blanket. Maybe he’ll think it over and go running for the hills.”

“But you yourself aren’t having any second thoughts?”

“Oh no,” I say quickly, surprised she would even ask that. “Hell no. I like him.”

“Well that’s really cool, then. I’m happy for you. It’s been so much shit for you with Agatha.”

Agatha. I let out a long breath I didn’t even know that I was holding. “It was shit for Agatha, too. I mean, in light of recent developments, I’d say a lot of our shit’s been on my end, too. I realize now I never truly liked her properly, so she’s been right to keep me at arm’s length.”

“Well, that may be partially true. But a relationship takes two and you’ve both been riding this train wreck together for a while. Her part in it wasn’t making any of it better.”

“Yeah, but... now that I understand what she was up against… I’m not as upset with her. In fact, I want to reach out to her. I’d like us to be friends. I certainly don’t want to leave it with her hating me.”

“Just give her time. She’s mostly just difficult when she’s with you. She’s funny and kind of cool with the rest of us, so I know she has it in her. I think if she can put some distance between the two of you, emotionally, she might be able to act better. Toward you.”

“I hope so. I guess it’ll be interesting to see how she is tomorrow, at Book Club.”

“Well, don’t be disappointed if she doesn’t come. She might decide to punish you with her absence. Or just want to avoid you for a while.”

“Well, if she doesn’t come, I’ll call her. I want to at least try to make it right.”

We talk a bit more before Penny says, “I have to get going, Simon. But call me tonight so you can report on the date with Baz.”

“If I don’t call you, that means it was a disaster.”

“It’s going to be fine, Simon. Bye.”

Now my hands are sweaty and my mouth is dry. Should I call him? What should I say?

I think about how it was in the past when I called girls up and asked them out. Is this going to be like that? Is it the same type of ritual?

Or do I want to make it different?

In the past I kind of felt like I was playing a part. I was very polite and respectful. The decision to go out or not was always up to the lady, and it was on me to do the asking, knock at the door to pick her up, pay for the food or the movie (or whatever), open the doors, move in for the goodnight kiss. So I could copy that pattern and be like that with Baz.

Except then it’s kind of like I’m expecting him to be “the girl.” And I don’t want that.

I want something new and more mutual. I want something honest and— let’s face it— of the two of us, Baz is the one who knows what he’s doing, here. Maybe this thing between us should be Baz-led?

If so, that’s for the future. But as far as today… I already said I would call him today. So I have to call him. Call him and not overthink it.

After he’d written his number on my clipboard I’d put it into my phone. So I find him in my contacts and call.

Baz:

My phone’s ringing. I left it on last night because Simon said he’d call in the morning.

Simon.

I pick up my phone and look at it. It says I have an incoming call from “Simon (is extremely awkward)”.

Omigod. I hadn’t noticed he put his name in, like that. That is so nerdy and totally on-brand for him. I wonder if there’s an emoji for a clipboard? I should put that next to his name.

“Hello,” I say, answering. I clear my throat because it’s kind of rough (I just woke up).

“Hi, Baz. Said I’d call. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“You did, but that’s okay. I can’t lie around all day,” I say, however I lay back down into my pillow, close my eyes, and nestle in. I feel like a luxuriant cat, talking to my boyfriend.

(I’m so happy he called).

“So, are you doing anything today?” he asks.

I open one eye. “Not much… I was going to do homework and start that first hundred pages of Catching Fire.”

“Would you want to go to the library and do the homework and reading together?”

My heart is beating faster, and I’m unreasonably excited. “Sure. What time?” 

“Well, how about we meet outside in the park by the library at about noon? I’ll bring lunch. You’re not a vegetarian or anything, are you? Any foods I should avoid?”

“I’ll eat whatever. But I’ll bring something, too.”

“Okay. See you soon, Baz,” his voice is soft and husky. “Bye.”

Our call is over so soon? “Bye.”

Kjfdklajdslkfjsdafd;sj (my brain does a key smash). We have a date.

Simon:

I get to the park about fifteen minutes early, because I don’t want to be late. I’m showered and shaved but I decide to wear regular clothes because I don’t want to look too desperate. 

I am super excited for this, but nervous.

It must be right around noon when I see Baz walking toward me, down the sidewalk. We wave to each other. He’s got a backpack slung over one shoulder.

I have this weird little meta-moment, watching as he walks toward me, because I realize that as far as appearances go, we just look like a couple of students meeting to do homework. Everything else about us is hidden below the surface. And if you’re someone who looks at the surface and stays there, that’s all you’ll ever see.

But underneath the surface. There are feelings and secrets and hopes. And fears. And kisses— lots of kisses, I’m hoping.

And isn’t that the difference between the books we read for school and the fan fiction Baz reads for fun?

I’ve been a guy who’s read nothing but books and “canon” my whole life. I tried to be a brave strong boy and fight the dragons, take the journey, save the girl… all that. But the princesses kept running away from me, and I didn’t understand why. 

Now here comes Baz and he opened the blanket, held my hand. And we’re taking each other off-script. I have, literally, no idea what happens next. 

And I’ve never been more excited in my life.

Baz:

Simon’s looking at me like he’s in some kind of trance. It’s a little disconcerting, but when I smile and say hello, he snaps out of it.

“Should we go over to that big flat rock by the river and have our lunch?” he asks.

“Sure.”

We walk and he’s not talking. Well, I guess I’m quiet, too. What do you say after a night of sudden intimacy like we had? We haven’t known each other that long. What happens next?

“So what’d you bring for lunch?” I ask.

“Sub sandwiches. What’d you bring?”

“I’ll show you when we get to the rock.”

“The rock” is a favorite hangout for people fishing and couples, but luckily no one’s claimed it today, yet. We step off the path and across little puddles to a spot on the rock’s edge, sitting so our feet dangle just above the water. It’s breezier here and we’re surrounded by the sound of rushing water. “At least our silences will be less awkward,” I think to myself.

Seated, I unzip my backpack and produce a paper bag full of... sour cherry scones. “You looked so heartbroken that day I ate the last cherry scone,” I say. “Thought I’d make it up to you.”

“My heart,” Simon says, jokingly. But I think he’s genuinely touched. He takes a scone and starts eating, looking at me fondly.

“Did I mention I like you, Baz?” he asks, between chews.

“You may have, last night. A few times.”

“Good, good.”

We eat companionably in peace, looking out over the water. “So I was thinking we should get to know each other better,” I say. 

“Yeah, sure. What do you want to know?”

“Well, why don’t we start with the basics, like ‘what’s your major’?”

Simon grimaces. “It started out ‘history’, then I changed it to ‘psychology’, but now I’m thinking ‘social work’.”

“Really? Social work? That’s interesting. What made you think of that?”

“I suppose it was all the years I spent in foster care,” he says, carefully, looking at me for a reaction.

“Oh… I didn’t mean to get personal, so fast.”

“No, no. It’s alright. I don’t remember my parents, but I also don’t remember any abuse or neglect, either. So there’s that. Guess I lived with them till I was two… that’s when I got taken away. Spent the next ten years in foster care. Till Ebb adopted me when I was twelve. She’s been a good mom. My life is good. But it wasn’t easy when I was younger, so I think I have a lot of compassion and would be able to relate to other kids in the same boat. So that’s kind of what led me to social work. But I haven’t made the official change, yet.”

“Simon, that sounds perfect for you. You could really make a difference.”

“Yeah, I’d like that. But how about you? What’s your major?”

“It’s English. I’d like to get my master’s and maybe my doctorate someday, and be a professor.”

“Omigod, Baz, that sounds great. I could totally see you doing that.”

“Unfortunately my father can’t. He thinks I’m out of my mind to consider it. He wants me to think about money and the family business.”

“What is your family business?”

“Publishing.”

“Well, that’s not completely incompatible with what you’re studying. I would think a good grasp of the English language would help, as far as being a publisher.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to go into the family business. I want to be independent from my father as quickly as possible.”

“I know what you mean. I hate relying on Ebb for help. Actually, I’m paying for my school with loans, and my job takes care of rent. But Ebb’s given me every piece of furniture in my house and takes care of all the in-between stuff my job doesn’t cover. So I definitely feel like a financial burden to her. If I ever lost my job I don’t know what I’d do.”

“You know,” I say, “a lot of people in your situation have roommates to share expenses. Why do you have a place all by yourself?”

“Because I’m a dumb ass, mostly.”

“Oh really? How so?”

He sighs. “Don’t think bad of me for this.”

“What? Why would I think badly of you?”

“Well, because the truth is, I got my own place because I was hoping it would lead to Agatha agreeing to spend the night with me.”

“Oh.”

“Of course,” he says quickly, trying to fix it, though he really doesn’t have to— past relationships aren’t something to be frowned on— “that never happened and now I’m glad… really glad.” 

I’m not quite sure what he means by that, exactly. It could be easily misinterpreted, but I feel foolish to ask about something so personal after only one kiss.

Simon continues, though, because he’s brave and he’s chosen to open up to me.   
”Agatha and I… Well, we never slept together.”

”Thank you for sharing, Simon. It means a lot to me that you did,” I say and smile at him. I want to say more, but we aren’t an LGBTQ+ representative and a “walk in” anymore. (I’m not quite sure we ever were). 

“I’ve never slept with anyone.” He’s looking down and blushing deeply. “That’s not a very sexy thing to say. Sorry.”

“Simon, it was brave and honest of you to tell me,” I say, taking his hand. “And I just happen to consider bravery and honesty quite sexy.” This is my attempt to ease the mood, but I’m also being serious. I mean what I say.

He looks up at me, cautiously. “You don’t mind that I’m inexperienced?” He looks worried and I feel the overwhelming need to make him laugh.

“Why would I? And Simon, inexperienced? I want to remind you that you sure knew your way around my lips yesterday evening, in case you’ve forgotten how that went,” I tease, pulling him up so we’re both standing. “Come on. Let’s walk a while and keep talking.”

We gather our things together and walk down the trail alongside the river. Simon’s hand brushes mine so I grab it; now we’re holding hands.

“Baz,” he says. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Anything.”

“Are you seeing other guys?”

I glance at him sideways and smile. “No.”

He grins. “Good.”

After about an hour of walking and talking, Simon says, “I suppose we should head over to the library.”

“Yes,” I say, reluctantly. 

“But first. Come over here, with me. Under this tree.”

We duck under the canopy of a willow tree. He pushes me up against the trunk; long droopy branches and leaves hang down around us like a veil. He grabs my hands and holds them up between our chests. He leans closer so our hands are kind of held between us. He’s looking up at me even more than normal, because the ground is at a bit of a slant. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I say back, looking down into his blue eyes. There are freckles scattered all over his nose and cheeks, and his curly dark blonde hair is so tussled and attractive… his eyes kind of peek out of it. He swallows and I notice how long his neck is… and how broad his shoulders are. 

“Can I kiss you again?” he asks.

“Yes, please do.” And then I lean against the tree and wait for him with half-shuttered eyes. (I don’t know why I do that; usually I lean forward and “go for it”, if the moment seems right).

He leans up and forward but surprises me by stopping. “I think we’re going to have to sit down for this. You’re tall. And we’re standing on a hill.”

“Omigod, Simon, I’m sorry. I should have thought of that.” We’re both red-faced as we quickly sit down, still holding hands. This time I lean over and help him find my lips.

Since I introduced him to my tongue last night, I don’t figure I have to wait as long this time to slip it in. He moans and lets his tongue touch mine. It feels good; I’m struck again by what a good kisser he is. He moves his jaw a little, so I reach up and rest a hand on it, to stroke him there. I run my other hand through his curls. They’re softer than I thought they’d be.

He’s leaning into me and I can tell he wants to push me back so I’m lying on the ground, but there’s a tree root there. Also I still have my backpack on. “Hold on,” I say. He stops and pulls away, breathing hard. I maintain eye contact as I take the backpack off my shoulders, shrugging it off one side at a time. I lay it down on the ground behind me and then lay down so my head is resting on it like a pillow. I look up at him.

He groans. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

Then he’s on top of me. His legs straddle around my hips, and he’s keeping himself off my lower half but is tantalizingly close. He’s kissing me from above like I’m the best thing he’s ever had. Stroking my hair, running a hand down my shoulder and arm.

I love how masculine he is. He smells great… clean, but also faintly musky. I love how labored his breathing is. Mine is a bit tattered, too. We’re kissing so often and so quickly and so passionately that there’s very little time for breath. But I don’t want him to stop. 

I want him to lay on top of me and he seems to have the same idea in mind. 

”May I?” he looks at me and asks.

I grab him by the belt loops and pull down. “Lay on me,” I whisper.

He settles onto me with a long shuddering sigh.

Mmm. Even better. Now I can bury my nose in his curls, wrap my arms around his neck. Feel him chest to chest, thigh to thigh.

Feel his hardness.

He rubs against me, and we both moan. “You are so…” he whispers, “I just… oh. You’re so...”

And I know exactly what he means.

Everything feels good, so good. His lips on mine, his body pressed against mine. And then I flip us over, so that now I’m on top. But I don’t kiss him right away. I sit up, so that I’m resting on my knees and holding my crotch just above his erection. And I’m looking down at him from above. I tuck my hair behind an ear and then slowly lean down to kiss him. 

But I don’t just kiss his lips. I kiss his neck and his jaw and his hairline. I kiss his eyelids and the tip of his nose and his forehead. 

“Baz,” he says. “I could do this forever. But…”

I know what he’s going to say… and he’s right. “We should stop,” I murmur against his lips. 

It’s not easy to pull apart, but we do. He hasn’t had sex before, so his first more intimate time needs to be special… not in a public space. And while we’re somewhat concealed here and there doesn’t seem to be anyone around, it isn’t truly private, and he deserves that. 

We keep apart and wait till we can comfortably walk again… we tell each other lame jokes till the mood and tension is sufficiently eased back into something more manageable. 

Then we walk over to the library.


	5. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon asks Baz to date him exclusively, and Baz says yes. Simon meets Baz's room mates, Niall and Dev. Simon and Agatha work out their issues and become friends again. And there's a party at Baz's house that ends with Simon spending the night. The story earns it's E rating in this chapter... we begin the descent into smut...

The Book Club, Chapter 5

Simon:

It’s Monday and I’ll see him shortly at Book Club, but I can’t resist surprising Baz at lunch, first. If I offer to pick up some food for him, maybe he’ll invite me to stay and eat.

“Knock knock,” I say, standing in the doorway of the LGBTQ+ office.

“Hi, Simon,” he says, smiling. He doesn’t exactly look surprised to see me, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it, either.

“I’m on my way to Burger King. Want me to pick something up for you? My treat?”

“No thanks... I brought my own lunch.”

“Oh. Okay.” That was not the answer I expected to hear. I didn’t really have a plan for if he said no, so feel my confidence deflate. Am I annoying him? Suddenly I’m embarrassed. “Well… yeah. Guess I’ll see you later today, then…” 

I turn back toward the door, but before I take my first step away he says, “Simon! Are you going? Don’t leave yet... come here.” And he stands up and meets me on the other side of his desk; he takes my hand and pulls me behind the door for a kiss. I’m so pleased and relieved when he does it. We’re new and I really don’t really know what the drill is… what I should or shouldn’t do for this...relationship.

Whatever it is.

“Why don’t you get your lunch and come back here? We can sit and eat in the office, if you don’t mind. You can watch me eat my salad,” Baz suggests.

I grin. “Knew you were a salad eater. But okay. I’ll be right back.”

I return with a paper bag full of greasy fast food shame. We sit down together and I try not to drip sauce as I eat my burger and watch Baz pick through his salad. At least it’s not just kale he’s eating… I see walnuts and mandarin oranges and other good stuff in there.

I decide that since I’m feeling uncertain about what’s going on with us, maybe I should see if Baz is ready to define it.

“Baz,” I say. “I know we just started seeing each other, and all, but I really like you… and I wonder if you like me enough to… date me, just me, for a while. You know. Be exclusive and see only me.”

He looks at me as he chews. He points to his mouth and I know he wants to finish chewing before he answers. I wait, and it feels like that’s my heart he’s eating and trying to swallow.

He swallows. “I really like you too, Simon,” he says, finally. “I’d like that. I’d like us to only be seeing each other.”

I lean forward and kiss him and grin at him. “That’s just… that’s great, Baz.”

While we’re blushing and gazing at each other, the same two guys I’d seen last week come in. One’s a tall dark-haired fellow who looks kind of like Baz, and the other’s a tall red-head who immediately grabs a chair and places his feet up on the edge of Baz’s desk, like he owns the place.

Baz gives his feet an irritated nudge off. “Simon,” Baz says. “These are my roommates... my cousin Dev, who has the better manners,” he says, motioning to the dark-haired guy, “and Niall, who has no respect for the cleanliness of my desk and likes to push my buttons. Guys, this is Simon. He and I are dating now.”

They look at me with interest, shake hands, and congratulate Baz on finding another human who can stand to be around him. I know I blush through the introduction, but it’s nice hearing Baz tell someone we’re dating. I think I could listen to that all day.

They hang out with us as we eat lunch. Niall turns out to be more funny than obnoxious. Everyone gives Baz a light-hearted time about how healthy his food is. “Hey; I like to take care of myself. Is that so wrong?” he retorts. 

“No, but it makes the rest of us look bad,” Niall remarks.

“Nothing’s stopping you from having a salad now and then.”

“Nothing except my taste buds.”

I decide Dev and Niall are cool. Niall does most of the talking, and he’s snarky and irreverent as hell, but Dev watches him fondly and sometimes finishes his sentences for him. Also there’s a lot of arm touching back and forth between the two of them. They seem really close.

I find myself wondering if the two of them are more than just roommates. Are they gay, too? I wish I had a better “gaydar”. You’d think that, being gay myself, I would have a good one, but no I don’t ( I couldn’t even see it in myself till it hit me over the head).

I find out that they’re planning to host a small party at their house this weekend. “Invite only,” Dev says, firmly. 

“Depending on how pretty any additional people are, should they try to slip through,” Niall adds, hopefully. 

“No, we are keeping it to thirty. You promised. We are not going to get busted by the police this time,” Dev tells him.

“You are such a pessimist,” Niall says sourly. Then he turns to me. “You are invited, of course,” he says. “As Baz’s special guest.”

I look up at Baz because I’m not sure if he wants me there. He hadn’t mentioned the party before now. But he nods. “Please come, Simon. I’m not sure I can handle these two without assistance, if alcohol’s involved again.”

“Pay no intention to what he’s implying, Simon. We are the epitome of self-control,” Niall says serenely, but by now I know enough to suspect the opposite is true.

“All right; I’ll come. What night is it?”

“Friday,” Baz answers. “I could come by and get you so we could go together, if you want.”

”Great, yeah,” I agree right on the spot. Baz never puts any pressure on me. I like that, especially since I haven’t always had that in my life. 

**********

Book Club rolls around, and I’m nervous. I haven’t seen Aggie since the movie night incident. I half-expect her not to show, but there she is, trailing behind Trixie and Keris. She’s laughing and talking to them animatedly, but I’m wary because there’s an edge to her and she hasn’t actually acknowledged me or Baz yet. 

Is she going to make this terrible?

“I have cookies this time,” I announce in my most people-pleasing voice. “Oatmeal.”

Aggie loves oatmeal.

I open the box and set out napkins. Aggie looks in the direction of the cookies but doesn’t actually take one. “Everybody get a chance to do the reading?”

Everyone says “yes” except for Agatha. She’s studiously picking a piece of lint off her sweater.

“So the book picks up where The Hunger Games left off,” I say (continuing as if I wasn’t waiting in dread for a cutting comment or ugly scorned-Agatha scene). “Peeta and Katniss now live in the victor’s village with their families, but they haven’t been talking much and they’re not friends. Why is that?”

Penny responds first. “Peeta is hurt because now he understands that Katniss was only acting when she was all lovey with him in the game. But that hurts because he wasn’t really acting. He actually loves her. So he’s hurt and mad.”

“And he’s so sweet,” Keris says sympathetically. “If I was Katniss I would just pounce on him immediately.”

(Trixie frowns at her like she’s grown a second head).

“But what about Katniss?” I continue. “What’s going through her head?”

“She doesn’t know what she thinks,” Aggie surprises me by answering. “Gale is weird and Peeta is weird. She just wishes things would go back to the way they were.”

She’s looking at me as she says this.

“But that’s impossible, right?” I say back, softly. “There’s no going back and everything’s different. Forever.”

“Yes. Because men are so complicated and because she’s caught in a trap. She’s got all these people depending on her and expecting things of her. And it’s hard to see at this point how she can possibly win.”

Aggie and I are looking at each other, now. I clear my throat and look down at my questions.

“What does she learn on the train? President Snow’s already talked to her and on the train Haymitch explains what it all means.”

“She’s got to win Peeta back. He wants to be friends now but she’s got to marry him,” Aggie says. “Knowing that it’s a doomed situation and that if they ever have kids the kids are going to end up being tributes, too.”

“She’s in an impossible place,” Baz agrees in a soft voice, nodding.

Aggie looks at him and nods. “It’s bad. This part of the book feels… claustrophobic.” Penny’s nodding now, and Agatha continues. “She’s supposedly a winner, but her life sucks. She’s not free. She’s still watched and trapped in the game. And it’s going to last her whole life.”

“It’s bad… those were hard chapters to read,” Keris says. 

Penny speaks up. “Katniss is so strong, but it’s really cool when she realizes she needs her friends.”

“And it’s really cool when she forgives Peeta,” Trixie adds. 

While all of the others were speaking, Agatha looks far away and deep in thought. I think she’s mulling something over. I’m not sure whether it’s good or bad. But it is something — something important. I know her well enough to be able to state this without any doubt.

“Of course she forgives Peeta,” Aggie finally says, looking at me. “He’s a great guy and a true friend. She’s not perfect, she’s made him feel like shit, but if she can make him happy now, she will.”

On the surface she’s talking about Peeta and Katniss, but in my heart I wonder if she’s slipped into talking about me and her, too. When she first started talking about me as a Peeta and her as a Katniss, I hated it. But in this context… it’s not so bad. Because everything was wrecked with them but they found a way to start healing.

Maybe we can, too. 

When the club is over and everyone but me and Baz has left, I lock up the study room with an exaggerated sigh. He understands what I’m referring to. “That didn’t go badly at all,” he remarks. 

**********

As the week went on, Baz suggested I go ahead and invite everyone from Book Club to the party. I make sure to seek Aggie out on campus and invite her personally.

She seems surprised to see me walk up to her, and when I invite her to a party her eyes open wider. “Really? You want me to come?” she asks.

“Of course I want you to come, Aggie. You’re my friend, and for a long time you were more. I don’t want us to stop talking to each other and hanging out.”

“Simon, I’m sorry I was so weird and judgy that night at your house. I was just really surprised when you and Baz sat close together like that.”

“We’re actually dating now.”

She pauses. “So then… you’re bi?”

Oh boy. This will be the hard part, in talking to her. “I didn’t realize when we were dating, Aggie. But I think I’m gay.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Then why did you date me? For two years?”

“I didn’t know, Aggie. And I always liked you, thought you were pretty. Enjoyed our kisses. But I didn’t know how it was supposed to feel. Can you forgive me?”

She’s quiet, a while. “So how are kisses supposed to feel? How does kissing Baz feel?” I look down and she adds quickly, “I’m not trying to shame you. I genuinely want to know, because I thought our kisses were normal. I wonder if I’m missing something, too.”

“Kissing Baz,” I say carefully, “is like… connecting. It’s like putting our two halves together and being one. It wakes me up, it comforts me… it’s like nothing else matters.”

She smiles. “Our kisses were more like lips and breath and spit.”

I smile back at her. “Yeah.”

“Thank you for telling me this,” she says. “I’m going to be honest. I think it has implications for me, too. For my dating life, that is.”

We both stand there a minute, not speaking. When she finally says something, I get the impression she’s choosing her words carefully. 

“I agree we were wrong together and that ending it was for the best. But I feel a little bit sad,” she admits. “Two years is a long time when you’re only twenty, right? And now it’s over. All our breakups never felt so… complete, before.”

“No,” I agree. “It always felt like we were going to get back together.”

“If I’d known that last time was the final time...” she starts saying, but then she shakes her head. “No. There’s no point thinking that way. That’s romanticizing the relationship for the sake of the relationship. We didn’t belong together.”

“Aggie,” I say, “if you’re worried you're going to miss me sometimes, just… don’t. I’ll still be here. We can be friends. You don’t have to miss me if we’re still friends.”

“Oh, Simon,” she says, throwing her arms around me and giving me a hug. “You’re going to make me cry.”

“So is that a yes?” I say. “Friends?”

“Can friends still give back rubs? Because I’m not going to lie. That was the part of our relationship that kept drawing me back to you. Your back rubs are the best.”

“I give Penny back rubs all the time!”

“Yay!”

“Can I still tease you a bit and boss you around?” she asks. I laugh, and so does she, but then she adds, “I’m only half-joking.”

“Well, that’s kind of the friendship model that Penny and I have set up, so I’m okay with extending it to you.”

“Awesome. Then it’s settled. Friends.”

“Friends,” I answer. “So you’ll come to the party at Baz’s?” I ask again.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

We finish our conversation and I feel so happy, like a great weight has been lifted.

If honesty gets me good conversations like this one, I’m never going back to the way I was— trying to be good by doing whatever I’m “supposed” to. 

I think the most genuine goodness comes from simply being happy.

Makes sense, right? Happy people are generous. 

********

Baz comes over to my place at 7 pm. He’s got this light blue, almost purple (periwinkle?) colored button-up on, and faded jeans. He looks so good. I still can’t believe I get to date him.

We hang out on the (illicit snuggle) couch till about 8, before driving over to Baz’s. I’ve never seen his place before, so I’m excited. It’s about a fifteen minute drive from my house, and in a better neighborhood. It’s such a big place. I wonder if there aren't more than three roommates, but I was under the impression it was just the three of them. 

I suppose I can ask. 

“We only have one side of the house. But the people on the other side are out of town this weekend, so that’s why Dev and Niall scrambled to put this party together,” Baz explains.

“Hey, I was going to ask you,” I say, before we get out of the car. “Are Dev and Niall a couple?”

“No,” Baz answers, “but they’re very close.”

“I could have sworn they were a couple.”

“I’m just glad we’re a couple.”

“Aww. That’s kind of cheesy.”

We kiss.

We walk up to the house, holding hands. Baz stops before we go inside. “Since you’re new to… this,” he says, raising our joined hands slightly, “I wanted to ask you. How comfortable are you with public displays of affection? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. And if you don’t want to tell anyone about us, I promise I won’t be mad if you’d rather we acted more like friends at the party.”

“Baz,” I say, stepping closer. “I want people to know we’re together. And a little PDA never hurt anyone. Let’s just do whatever feels right.”

“Well I’ll let you set the tone. I won’t do anything to you until you do it to me, first.”

I think about it a moment and decide I appreciate that. “You are so incredibly thoughtful,” I say against his lips as I kiss him again.

He rests his forehead against mine. “You ready for this?”

I deliberately keep my hand in his as he opens the door.

********

Baz:

By 10:30 the party is in full swing. We’re probably over thirty people, but then I contributed to that by inviting Book Club.

Everyone from the club came, including Agatha.

She comes right over and gives Simon a hug. I’m surprised…has there been some kind of good conversation I haven’t heard about, yet? 

I make sure everyone has something to drink, then pretty soon we’re talking and laughing, like normal… like better than normal, actually, because the book club friends are starting to feel like my friends, now. 

Realistically, any tension in the room would be impossible to hear because Niall’s music is so loud. 

“So were you two a couple already on movie night?” Agatha shouts over the music.

I let Simon answer. “No, but that’s when we kind of realized we liked each other,” he tells her. 

“Oh really?” she says, smiling. “Huh. That’s why no one joined me on the floor in front of the TV. I was hoping one of you would follow me.”

“You were?” Baz and I ask, incredulously.

“Hope springs eternal,” she says, and we all laugh. 

Later, she says “Baz, will you get us another drink? I’d like to talk to Simon alone a minute.”

I almost raise an eyebrow at that, but as she’s been so nice all night, I go along with it. I see her and Simon put their heads together as I walk away.

It takes at least ten minutes to get through the crowd and make my way to the keg, then I have to wait my turn at the tapper and pour three cups. And of course I have to stop and talk to people along the way. So by the time I get back to Simon and Agatha it’s been more than twenty minutes… and they’re still talking. In fact, they’re smiling at each other. I see Agatha reach up and give him a hug. He replies with an affectionate peck to her cheek.

I know it’s innocent, but I feel a little tinge of… something.

I’m ready to have Simon back.

“All right, here?” I say, in a smooth voice, slipping my hand behind Simon’s back and placing my kiss on his cheek.

It might be slightly territorial.

“Oh yes,” Agatha says. “We had a good talk. But it’s time for me to find Penny. We promised we would take care of each other tonight.”

And with that she slips away.

“What was that all about?”

“Oh, nothing. Just Agatha blowing my mind.”

“You’re going to have to explain that.”

“Well first I have a question for you,” Simon says, with a twinkle in his eye. “What was with that kiss and arm around me just now? I thought you weren’t doing any public affection till I did it first. Seems a little forward of you.”

“I was doing that,” I answer, slightly irritated and also embarrassed. “But repeating the stuff I saw you do with Agatha.”

“Baz, she just told me she’s got a date tomorrow night. With a girl.”

******

Simon:

It’s after midnight and this is a fun party.

And I may have a slight buzz. Certainly I feel good. 

By this time of night, I’m stuck to Baz like we’re velcro. I don’t care if we talk to other people, as long as our legs are touching somewhere, we’re holding hands, or my lips are suctioning his neck during the conversation.

He seems to love it. He keeps looking at me with these shining eyes, sometimes shaking his head like “tsk tsk”. Like I look really, really good to him but he also knows I’m probably quite drunk. 

I am, and the main thought in my head is how he looks like a snack to me. The way his legs and butt are in those jeans… his face in profile. His gorgeous hair, which I am now free to touch...

I decide I need to have him all to myself so I can concentrate, look at him, and paw at him properly.

“Baz,” I say. 

“Yes, dear?” He says, with his lips in my hair.

“You never showed me… the rest of the house. For example, your bedroom. I haven’t seen that.”

He pulls back to look at me, saying nothing. Then he grabs my hand and starts walking, pulling me behind him.

I think he’s going to show me his bedroom.

******

Baz:

As if I thought this night could get any better.

Simon has inquired about my bedroom.

I remind myself that he might be asking about that for innocent reasons. I remind myself of his limited experience and the need to take things slow.

But Simon is very relaxed right now, and so am I. 

Surely we can have a little fun.

We manage to slip away without too much attention. Helps that the party’s going full-swing. I lead him out of the room to the stairs. We head up, but on the way Simon stumbles a little and starts giggling. I have to stop and push him against the wall of the stairs for a little kiss. 

It turns into a longer kiss than I planned. Simon is kissing in a whole new way… much more open-mouthed and uninhibited. 

Part of me thinks I should proceed very carefully and err on the side of not doing too much with him tonight. I don’t want him to regret things tomorrow.

But part of me thinks Simon had better stay the night. For one, he’s drunk. He lives by himself, so there’s no one to worry if he doesn’t come home.

And his staying over doesn’t mean I’ll go too far. Just a little cuddling and I bet he passes out right away…

At the top of the stairs I open the door. 

This whole floor is my room… a suite, really. I have my own bathroom, walk-in closet, and sitting area, as well as a study area and bedroom.

I flip on the light and Simon twirls around. “Wow,” he says.

But he immediately heads to my bed.

“This is quite a set-up you have here,” he says.

I walk over to the nightstand by my bed and switch it on. Then I go back and turn off the big light.

“May I lock the door?” I ask.

“Yes I think you’d better. Can I use your bathroom?”

“It’s right over there.”

When he comes out I get up from the bed. “My turn.”

When I come out he’s sprawled across my bed… a sight I never thought I’d see, in those years of crushing on him from afar.

“Baz, do you think I can stay overnight?”

“I was hoping you’d want to do that.”

I lay down beside him on the bed. We’re on top of the blankets. He looks at me through half-hooded eyes. “Come ‘ere.”

I scoot closer. We’re face to face and we’re looking into each other’s eyes. He reaches up and starts brushing the hair out of my face. “You’re so pretty,” he says, sighing happily. But then he frowns. “Can I say that?”

“I don’t mind,” I say, licking my lips and looking at his mouth.

We’re kissing. Simon is groaning and kissing me on the lips, chin, and jaw. Then lower to my throat. He slides his lips and tongue all over that area in one enthusiastic open-mouthed kiss. It’s kind of messy but I don’t care. It feels good. 

I let myself kiss him back with the same abandon.

His fingers are at the buttons of my shirt. “Can I, Baz?”

“Yes,” I whisper, emphatically.

He sits up and starts unbuttoning me as he looks down. “I want to see you.”

He opens my shirt button by button, slowly, stopping to kiss and appreciate each patch of skin revealed in the process. 

“This is like opening the best Christmas present I ever had,” he confesses.

Simon:

My fingers are trembling, as I do this. He’s so hot. His hair is all splayed out over the bed and his mouth is partially open, as he waits for me to do my thing.

I love how sometimes he stays passive for me. Lets me feel like I have the control. He’s very well capable of taking the lead, and sometimes I want him to… but not right now. 

He’s letting me have this thing.

There. That’s the last button. I lay my hands on his abs and he moans and closes his eyes. I sweep the two sides of his shirt open so I can see his nipples.

I run my hands up and down his smooth chest. I make sure to run fingertips, then a thumb over his nipples. I reach down and kiss him. As we kiss I start pulling his shirt down off his shoulders. He sits up and helps me take it off.

“Your turn,” he says.

Baz:

Simon doesn’t have buttons… he’s wearing a zippered hoodie over a t-shirt. So I prop myself up on one arm and unzip him.

Simon takes his hoodie off the rest of the way. I snake fingers under the bottom of his t-shirt and he helps me pull it over the top of his head. 

Now we’re both sitting up, looking at each other’s chests.

He looks amazing. His shoulders are broad and his biceps are thicker than mine. His chest is solid and defined. He has a little bit of hair trailing down his stomach, but mostly what I see is smooth golden skin. And freckles, dotted with moles here and there like constellations. I reach down and start tracing each cluster and configuration with my fingers and my lips.

He giggles in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“Eating you up.”

“Baz,” he says, and I notice his face is flushed. “You have abs. I think I’m going to die.” And suddenly I’m grateful for every mile I ever jogged and every crunch I ever sweated through.

“Well don’t do that. That wouldn’t be any fun.” I’m smiling, but now I want to feel him… really feel him. I wrap us up into a full body hug, kneeling on the bed, and it feels so good. He’s warm, and his skin slides against my skin so smoothly and right. Plus I can smell him better, and I love how he smells. 

“Can we turn the lights off, Baz, and get under the covers?”

Oh, hell yes.

I get up to turn off the lamp. He pushes the blankets down.

“Should we take our pants off? To be more comfortable?” I ask.

“Yes, but…”

“What is it, Simon?” He looks bashful. I try to reassure him. “Look, we don’t need to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

He takes a breath. “Okay. I want to... be with you some more. But I don’t want to go all the way yet.”

“Of course, Simon.”

“Thanks,” he says, before adding “But can we still fool around a little?”

“I think we could arrange that,” I say. “But it might be a good idea to tell me right now how far you want it to go tonight.”

He hesitates. 

“What are my options?”

I can’t help it… I start laughing. “Your ‘fooling around’ options?”

“Okay; never mind, asshole” he says, grinning. “I don’t need options.” (I’m glad he didn’t get offended when I laughed… I really shouldn’t have done it. But the things that come out of this boy’s mouth sometimes…).

“I know what I’d like tonight, Baz,” he says, softly.

“And what’s that, Simon?”

“I want us to get each other off. Hand jobs.”

Oh. Oh my; yes.

So much for my shy boy theory of him. 

I nod affirmatively, like we’ve just agreed on a suitable way to proceed.

“Okay. That sounds good. Really good.” (There may be a slight squeak to my voice on that last syllable, but I don’t think he notices).

We take our pants off and slide under the covers in our boxers. We lie side by side, next to each other. I reach up and lightly grab one of Simon’s curls, playing with it in my fingers. I lean over toward him and find his mouth.

He hums against my lips. “It feels so good to lie next to you in a bed.” I run a hand down his side, before letting it rest on his hip. 

“Yes. It feels perfect,” I agree. I slide my leg forward so it can slot between Simon’s. We continue to kiss.

He tentatively places a hand on my chest. He starts stroking up and down my chest. Then he moves lower and that’s when my breath hitches. He’s running a finger along the elastic of my boxers.

He’s never been with a guy before, so this is brave. And my heart starts beating madly because I realize he doesn’t intend to shy away from any of this. 

He wants me.

I move so that I can lay over the top of him. But I hold myself slightly up so we’re not completely touching and I can lean down to kiss him. I’m still trying to be gallant and slow. But he lets me know that’s not necessary by putting his arms up around my neck and pulling me down, directly onto him.

Our hips fall together and there is a moment when we both are still, just reveling in the sudden contact between our two erections. But then he moans and starts moving. He slides and writhes beneath me and the sensation, even through underwear, is incredible.

It is by far the hottest thing I have ever experienced.

“Simon,” I moan, and now I’m moving, too. The movement of our hips toward a common goal is relentless. He has his hands on my ass, attempting to guide me, and I think to myself what a natural he is. He’s very, very good at this back and forth, rub and grind. He does it in such a way that I realize that this, in itself, could be enough for me. In the sense that it’s way more physical contact than I ever thought we’d have, and the contact with Simon is so satisfyingly intimate. I could come from us literally doing just this. And I shouldn’t give into that… Simon said he wanted hand jobs.

Simon must be a little more composed than me, because he’s able to stop. I pause, too, and feel his fingers at the edge of my boxers. “Baz,” he pleads. “I want… can I… help you take these off?”

“Yes, take them... off.” my voice sounds totally smashed from desire. Apparently words and logic have melted away and now all my talk sounds like grunts and expletives.

He slips them down and my erection pops out. I kneel back so I can get myself out of them. Then I return to my place against Simon.

We haven’t started moving yet, but the feeling’s even more intense, now that I have bare skin. But I’m not satisfied. We could both have bare skin. So I put my hand up by his waistband. “How about you?”

He doesn’t even wait for me to help him take his underwear off. He strips naked on his own in what must be some kind of speed record.

We rub more carefully and lightly now, but we’re both moaning because the dampness of our precome helps our skin slide against one another more smoothly.

“Baz,” Simon whispers, breathlessly. “Touch me.”

Simon:

It would be hard to describe what I’m feeling right now. “Ecstasy” probably comes close. 

I’ve wanked myself before, of course, and gotten off plenty of times. But not with another person.

Not with Baz.

And knowing that we’re going to do all that tonight, that the door is locked and that we’ve already talked about it… that Baz wants to do it, too. That’s the best feeling ever.

I was imagining just a little mutual masturbation to break the ice, but this contact with Baz right now is more than that. This is physical and emotional intimacy on a scale I’ve never had before. His bare skin on my bare skin, his breath and his sweat and the way he’s speaking. The way he trembles at every little thing I do to him. The way his head is bent down over me… how I have his total attention. The way I can stroke him with my cock and make his back arch up.

I love him. 

I can’t say that out loud to him yet, but it’s true. I know it’s soon-- too soon for anyone, including Baz, to believe me. But this moment feels like love to me, and the words want to bubble up out of my lips. 

I bite down on my lips, to clench the emotion in.

We’re gently rocking against each other now, and it’s exquisite, but suddenly I remember “the plan” (as if my brain has a little clipboard of things we need to accomplish tonight).

I want him to grasp me in his hand.

“Baz,” I plead. “Touch me.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He pushes himself off to the side of me and reaches with his hand down between my legs to rub from my shaft down to my sack, then up again. Then he grabs my cock firmly between his fingers and palm.

Another human being that is not me is holding my cock. I about swoon. 

His erection is harder than ever, but Baz whispers, kissing me, “Simon. I’m going to reach over and get something to make this easier. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

He sits up and opens the drawer of a nightstand by the bed. He must have lube in there. I hear him open a bottle and then rub something onto his hands. When he comes back to me his hand is deliciously slick.

He starts stroking my cock up and down, kissing my neck, shoulder, and everywhere he can reach as he does that.

He rubs it like I do… but better. He adds some different things I never thought of, like flicking his thumb around my tip. I like that. Also he controls the pace better than I do… he spends more time going slow. But he’s watching my body for signs, and when my hips start to buck up and my demand is more persistent, he makes the rhythm faster.

“Omigod, Baz… oh! Oh, god… fuck.”

His motion on me is relentless now. He has strong hands and he’s going to see this thing through. I love him. “I’m going to… I…”

And then it’s washing over me in waves. No stars and fireworks, like they talk about in books, but such good feelings and the most intense relief. When it’s over I feel wobbly and spent.

I’m glad Baz pulled the covers down a while ago because otherwise I would have spilled all over his sheets. As it is, I’m sure I made a mess, but I can’t be bothered to care.

Baz is kissing me full on the lips now, passionately, and I cling onto him. “I’ll get a towel,” he says, breaking away. 

It’s dark in the room but my eyes have had time to adjust to the light. I open them a crack and watch Baz get up and go to the bathroom for a towel. His body is beautiful, and he still has a full erection.

When he comes back he hands the towel to me, gently. “Here.” I thank him, and I don’t know what I’m thanking him for… the towel or the mind-blowing orgasm. Both, I suppose.

He climbs back in beside me, but doesn’t make any demands. He’s such an amazing guy he would probably just lay there and cuddle with me right now, if that’s what I wanted.

But that’s not what I want.

Once I’ve cleaned up and we’ve both wiped our hands on the towel, I sit up and bend down over him to whisper, “Where’s that lube, Baz?”

“You don’t have to…”

“But I want to,” I reply. “May I?”

“Yes. Oh god, yes,” he says, handing me the lube.

“Do you care if I turn that little nightlight of yours back on?” I ask. “I kind of want to see this.”

He chuckles. “Go ahead.”

I reach over and click the lamp on. Baz is laying on the bed with his arm slung over his face, now. “Too bright.”

He’s laying naked and fully erect on the bed, and he’s so, so beautiful. Even his cock is beautiful. It’s longer and maybe not quite as wide as mine, but the hair around it is very nicely groomed… he must shave or something. I wonder if that’s a gay thing. I must look like a caveman in comparison.

“Stop staring, Simon,” he says.

“Right,” I say, quickly opening the lube and rubbing a few drops into my hands.

I lay down so my head is on his shoulder and I can see down as I start stroking him. I watch my hand move up and down, grasping his cock, squeezing and pulling it with different pressures. His muscles are clenched tight and I realize he’s trying not to buck up, trying to stay still for me. His abs, his thighs, even his arm, still thrown across his face, is taut with the strain of his concentration.

I look up at his face. I can’t see his eyes, with his arm over them like that, but I can watch the lower half of his face. See him bite his lip and gasp as I move over him rhythmically. Watch him swallow. He’s turned away and I see the long line of his neck and collar bone up close.

His skin is glistening with a sheen of sweat, now. I hear the music, Niall’s music, still pumping downstairs. I find myself pumping Baz to the rhythm of it. Before the song’s even over he instructs me, in gasps, to “Keep your hand still.” So I do, and then he starts moving his hips up fast and repeatedly, like he’s fucking my hand. 

I watch him do that. It’s a miracle. I decide it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

But then I almost immediately prove myself wrong on that because he starts to ejaculate, and clearly that is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen before.

I grab the towel from up off the floor and find a clean side of it, to wipe us off with. I kiss Baz’s face. “That was wonderful, Simon,” he says.

“You’re wonderful.”

Then I click the light off and slide back into bed with him. I go back to laying my head on his arm, but this time it’s innocent. Eventually he rolls over and I spoon him. We both fall asleep to the rhythm of each other’s breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of this wasn't beta read so I hope it's not too bad. My beta helps point out logical inconsistencies and other oopsies, so if I've messed up, don't blame it on her... lol.


	6. Quarantine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the "morning after" the big party at Baz's, and while Simon and Baz are a happy couple there is major unresolved tension between Niall and Dev. 
> 
> Agatha stumbles through her post-Simon dating, Keris and Trixie become a couple, and the Book Club decides to give fan fiction a try. 
> 
> COVID-19 social distancing rules take effect, Simon loses his job, and Baz talks him into moving in with him. (Whew! Lots going on).

The Book Club, Chapter 6

Baz: 

I wake up late the next morning, and Simon is nowhere to be seen… his spot beside me in bed, empty. I sit up and look around. Is he still here? He didn’t just... leave, did he? 

We’d shared quite a few intimacies the night before. It’s possible it was all too much for him, too fast. I have a moment of panic at the possibility that I’ve already messed up our new relationship. That would be quite devastating, actually, as I find myself very attached to how things have developed. 

I thought last night went great.

It was dreamy… this boy I’ve liked for so long, letting me drag him up the stairs to my room. Letting me undress him.

Letting me kiss him with an open mouth. 

(Please don’t let it be over, already).

I look around for a sign that he’s still here. I find one: his shoes.

I feel my body relax. He must be in the bathroom. I lay back down again, and wait. 

After a few minutes, I hear the bathroom door open. Simon pads back to the bed in bare feet, and I see he’s found his boxers, because he’s not naked. His whole face flushes red when he sees me awake.

“Baz,” he says softly, crawling back into bed with me.

“Good morning, boyfriend,” I say in a teasing but warm voice, reaching out for him.

He grabs my hand in both of his, and his shy smile turns into a grin. “I guess I really am your boyfriend.”

“And how do you feel about that?” I ask, curiously, hoping for a good answer.

“Happy,” he says, simply, and I decide that is a very good answer. I pull him over on top of me and we kiss.

“You’re not wearing a single thing,” he notes in a pleased voice.

“Nope,” I reply. His eyes widen a little as I get up to head to the bathroom. 

I feel his eyes on me the whole way there. I don’t bother to put anything on.

When I come back he’s still looking, which I should tease him about, but instead I feel compelled to admit, more seriously, “When I woke up and you weren’t here… I thought you’d left.”

“I wouldn’t just leave,” he protests, solemnly. “How could I do that? I’m absolutely dazzled by you.” He kisses me lightly on the lips. “Besides,” he adds, “I don’t feel so good. I may very well need to stay in this bed and go back to sleep for the rest of the day. Or at least until I have to go to the bakery.”

“Not surprising, as you had quite a bit to drink last night.”

“Yeah… more than I should have, I guess. It was pretty fun while it lasted, though, wasn’t it?”

“More than fun. But let’s go back to sleep so you feel better,” I say, as I spoon him (keeping a space between our lower halves, so neither of us gets distracted).

“Okay.”

**********

We awaken a few hours later, and this time I’m first up. Simon is nestled into me and it feels so warm and comfortable. I can’t believe how much more cozy and wonderful being in the room is, with him here in it. His dark blonde curls spread out over my pillow and his golden skin on my white sheets makes the whole room glow with happiness. 

The only thing bringing the scene back to reality is the slightly stale smell of beer coming out from our pores. But that’s nothing that a good shower can’t fix.

I kiss his shoulder. “Hey you,” I say gently. “Are you awake?”

“Hmmph.”

“Let’s go see what it looks like downstairs.” Best thing for a hangover is to get up and start moving around a little.

I’m really hoping the house isn’t too trashed. It isn’t like me to leave one of Dev and Niall’s parties unsupervised, like that. I hope they kept it together, somewhat (must have, as apparently the police weren’t called… I think they’d wake me up, for that).

When Simon doesn’t move, I add, “I’ll make you breakfast.”

That gets him to peek an eye open. “What kind of breakfast?”

“How about bacon, eggs, and toast?”

“That sounds good,” he says, turning to look at me.

We’re silent for a while, now that our eyes have met. I wonder what he’s thinking. I’m thinking about how much I like him… how handsome he is, even in his “morning after” state. I like him more than I probably should for such a short relationship, but then I had secretly liked him for so long…

Simon breaks the silence. “I know we didn’t go all the way, but I feel like I lost my virginity last night.” He laughs a little, so I do, too.

But something more needs to be said. I say, gently, “Well, you kind of did. We had a wonderful night and we took down a lot of barriers.” I prop myself up on one arm and look down at him (I wonder if he can see the love in my eyes). I smoothe his hair back. “You gave me so much of yourself, Simon. Thank you for that. I hope this first night was special for you.” 

“Oh, Baz,” Simon murmurs dreamily, stretching in the bed— the hint of a smile on his lips as he looks up at me. “You gave me everything I wanted.”

I feel myself stirring, because now I know we’re both remembering everything we experienced together last night. Simon turns into me and buries his face in my neck. “Baz…”

“Yes, Simon?” I answer softly.

“Let’s… stay here awhile... have another go at it, maybe? Before breakfast? I mean, if you want. It’s just… here you are. And here I am. And I’m not ready for our closeness to be over...”

“Mmm. Yes, those are good points.” I say, kissing him. There’s nothing I want more.

I run a hand down his side… he’s so warm. He threads both of his hands through my hair to bring my head closer. He leans our foreheads together first, then kisses me.

Kisses on the lips lead to kisses on the face and neck (I think we both decide that’s better, seeing as we have morning breath).

I close my eyes and let myself just feel him. Now that we’ve “crossed the line” and been intimate together, I feel like I’m allowed to be more spontaneous with him. 

Like, more than before, I can just respond to his touches and see what happens. (I’ll also respond to any hesitations from him that I feel).

But I’m not too worried about misunderstanding what he wants. For being so new to this, he’s remarkably comfortable trying new things, expressing passion, and trying to put feelings into words. I feel very fortunate.

“Baz,” he murmurs, his lips mouthing behind my neck, his erection pressing against me through his boxers. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“I think I do, Simon,” I answer. “I feel it, too.”

He chuckles and grabs my ear lobe lightly between his teeth. “No, you don’t. I like you so much, it’s ridiculous. I like you so much I could cry.”

“Simon, dear,” I whisper. How does he say all these wonderful things? I’m the English major and I can hardly verbalize right now, I’m so moved. 

I try again. “I love how you put so much feeling into everything you do with me. I love how you care about my response. I love how we’re starting out so open.” 

I roll us over so I’m on top of him again. I need to kiss his lips more. I use my arms to prop myself up a little so I don’t crush him. His eyes are closed and his head is tipping back. He reaches up with his hips toward my body, like he’s looking for me. I answer by brushing my cock against his, through his boxers. I brush lightly, with the greatest care and reverence. There’s no rush; there’s no demand. It’s whatever he wants.

He clutches me by the hips and writhes and moans under me; his body involuntarily bucking up, like he wants to enter me (we won’t try that yet). 

I smile and pull away, a little. I reach down and rest my fingers against the waistband of his shorts. “May I?”

“Yes.”

I pull them down; he kicks his boxers off (which I interpret as permission to touch him).

He takes my hand and leads me to his cock (that’s definitely permission to touch him). I stroke up and down the length of him. He gasps as soon as the skin of my fingers makes direct contact with him.

He’s very hard.

“I’m going to get the lube,” I murmur.

“I think it fell on the floor last night,” he informs me.

I get up and find it under the bed. I lube up my hand and return to where I was, on top of him. I want to give him a hand job again, but this time from this new angle. I want to look into his face as I stroke him, taking in each little shudder and sigh. 

Leaning over the top of him, the movement will be almost like I’m doing it to myself. 

********

By the time we actually get up, it’s one in the afternoon. I shower first so I can go down and start cooking while Simon showers.

The house is moderately trashed, but Dev’s already up, straightening things. I see him in the living room with a trash bag, gathering the empty cups, bottles, and cans (apparently some people brought their own beverages— all we provided was cups and the keg). I’m not very pleased to see two cigarette butts in the pot of my hibiscus plant, and someone’s pants are at the bottom of the stairs, looking like a bad decision, but I don’t see anyone sleeping on the couch and nothing appears broken.

“Morning, Baz,” Dev says. “You clocked out early last night.”

“Yeah,” I say, sheepishly. “Sorry about that. Hope you didn’t have trouble handling Niall on your own.”

Dev laughs, but there’s an edge to it. It’s not a real laugh.

“He was a handful, alright.”

“Is he still sleeping? I’ll go get him up and make him help us clean.” I offer.

“No, just... let him keep sleeping. I don’t know that I want to see him yet,” Dev says. 

“Oh?” I say, wondering what that’s about. I don’t press, though, because with those two it’s hard to say how personal the offense is.

“Casanova Niall came into my room last night,” Dev tells me, before adding quickly, “Nothing happened. I’m just a little pissed he tried something like that on me. Directed his casual horniness toward me.”

“So it was more than just him wanting to sleep in the same room as you?”

“I’d say so. He kissed me. And there was nothing in his behavior to me to indicate it was more than just a booty call thing,” Dev answers, bitterly. He sighs and sits down on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. His hair remains standing up while he looks down and frowns.

I sit down, too. “Oh, I’m sorry, Dev. I know you care about him. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not yet. Maybe later. I’m not even sure how to put it into words right now, what I’m feeling. Disgusted and alarmed would be two words, I suppose. Not “disgusted” that he would want to kiss me, but that he would do it so casually, for such slight, passing reasons, and maybe risk our whole friendship. As if our friendship means that little to him, to risk it over a one night stand.”

I nod sympathetically, but I caution him, “You won’t know till you talk to him if it was all just casual and meaningless. It might have meant more to him than you think. Sometimes people get their courage up when they’re drinking but they do things that they actually want to do.” Of course I’m thinking of me and Simon, when I say that.

“I suppose that’s possible.”

We continue picking up the mess in silence a few more minutes, before I head into the kitchen. “I’m making breakfast,” I say. “You want anything? Eggs and bacon?”

“I’d have some scrambled eggs, if you made them,” Dev answers.

“Okay.”

The room is starting to smell like bacon when Simon comes down. He’s wearing his clothes from the night before.

“You could have worn something of mine,” I say.

“I don’t think your stuff would fit me.” Simon answers.

“Hello, Simon,” Dev says.

“Hi,” he answers, blushing. “Don’t know if you realized I’d spent the night.”

“Baz mentioned it. It’s fine,” Dev answers. Good man.

We are almost done eating when Niall comes down. He looks like a train hit him… red-rimmed eyes and hair sticking up in clumps all around his head.

“S’pose there’s not any left?” he asks, hopefully, apparently hungry despite the hangover.

“There’s some,” I answer. “Help yourself.” Dev isn’t looking at him and Niall is glancing at Dev, regretfully.

“Sorry if I was an ass last night, Dev,” he says quietly.

“Ah, well. It wouldn’t be the first time,” Dev says.

“Look,” I say, standing. “Me and Simon are going to go back upstairs. If you two need to talk about something…”.

“Don’t rush off,” Dev says, quickly. “We don’t.”

But we carry our plates to the sink. “I’ll take care of the dishes later, Dev. Just leave everything,” I say. Then I head out of the room, with Simon following behind me.

Simon:

I’m not sure what’s going on between Dev and Niall but the silence around the two of them is pretty thick. I gladly follow Baz back upstairs.

I actually leave, not long after. I need to change into clean clothes for work at the bakery. On Sunday nights we do a lot of the Monday baking ahead of time. Business has been slowing down, though. I think people are staying closer to home, now that the first couple cases of COVID-19 hit our county.

It’s just me and the owner working tonight, so I’m trying to pay attention and not mess up. But I’m even more distracted than usual. I can’t help replaying all the sexy little scenes with Baz over in my head. The stuff between us the night of the party, and all that additional... morning stuff.

It’s kind of unreal, and overwhelming, how quickly our relationship has developed. I’m in so deep now that my heart would be absolutely broken if he lost interest, at this point. I trust him; I trust that this is mutual and we both feel the same. I trust that he’ll want to keep seeing me and that we both want to take this relationship as far as it will go. I’m not holding back any feelings, or hiding anything from him.

**********

According to Baz, in a few days the thing with Dev and Niall blew over. They returned to their usual bickering and banter as if nothing had ever happened… as if Niall hadn’t kissed Dev. 

Or so it appears on the surface.

Baz thinks Dev is maybe a little more reserved than he was before, but then he had always been the quiet one (it’s hard to get a word in edgewise, when Niall’s around). And Niall’s apparently back to his shamelessly flirtatious ways with anyone remotely attractive.

Dev doesn’t seem to mind. Baz says that Dev acts as if that’s all that can be expected of Niall.

Dev still hasn’t wanted to talk it over with Baz, but Baz wishes he would. Because Baz thinks it’s time for people to start expecting more of Niall… including Dev.

After the party weekend, I had run into Agatha. I asked her if she’d ever gone on a date with that girl she’d told me about.

“Oh yeah, but it didn’t turn out to be any big thing. In the end we decided just to be friends.” She looks kind of resigned. “We kissed,’ she confesses, “and it was just like it was for you and me. Lips, breath, and spit.”

“Well, maybe she just isn’t the right one.”

“Yeah. I’ll keep looking. Or at least keep an open mind.”

I nod, and then she adds, “Although the day may come when we’re not allowed to date… COVID-19, and all. It might be that you people who are couples are the lucky ones and the rest of us are screwed.”

“Maybe not, Aggie,” I respond, trying to make her feel better. “Think of all the mismatched couples out there. You think they’re going to be happy in quarantine, stuck with each other? Could be that the single people are the lucky ones.”

We laugh. “Yeah, whatever,” she says. “But thanks, Simon.”

Weeks go by. Baz and I see each other daily, and on weekends we spend the night at one or the other’s places. And the weirdness with COVID continues to increase. There’s no more parties, because everyone’s trying to do social distancing and we’re not supposed to have more than ten in a room at a time.

We finish Catching Fire and start Mockingjay, for Book Club (Book Club is still an okay gathering, as there are only six of us). 

One notable development in Book Club is that Trixie and Keris are officially a couple, now. So when everybody came over for the next movie night at my house, Trixie and Keris unabashedly snuggled under their blanket. 

Everyone agreed it was pretty cute.

“This Book Club is turning into quite the dating service,” Penny notes, wryly. 

None of us argue with her.

“Baz,” I say, at the end of one of our book club meetings, “Do you still want to pick what we read next? We’re almost done with Mockingjay. If I’m going to order us books from the library, I have to do it now so they come in time.”

“How about we do something different?” he asks, looking at everyone. “Instead of reading books, why don’t we use our phones to read fan fiction?”

“Hunger Games fan fiction?” Agatha asks, skeptically.

“Wouldn’t have to be Hunger Games. We could read some of… whatever we want. And then report back to the group on our favorite couple of stories we stumble across.”

“That sounds fun,” says Keris.

“I’m up for it,” Penny agrees. “Might be a nice little break.”

We take a vote and it’s unanimous: yes, we’re going to try reading fan fiction for a few weeks. (I’m really glad Aggie and I worked out our differences. The old Aggie would have fought us on this, for sure. She was always so set in her opinions and on calling the shots. Now she seems to have let a lot of that need for control go).

As it turned out, the meeting when we agreed to do fan fiction was the last time the club was able to meet before the governor put us under a stricter social distancing order. It was becoming clear to everyone that COVID-19 was more dangerous than we originally thought, so our state was joining others in shutting down unnecessary travel, large gatherings, and nonessential businesses.

There were to be no more parties, no more clubs, no more casual trips to the store. Classes would go online. People were to wear masks in public and not get within six feet of people who are not their housemates.

I barely had time to start wondering how I would be able to keep seeing Baz before the virus hit me from another angle: financial.

The owner of the bakery I work at decided not to try making a go of it with curbside pickup. Her health problems got her deciding to take COVID as a sign she should retire. 

So she decided to close up the shop. Which means I’m out of a job.

She felt bad about doing it. She gave me a $200 severance package, and I suppose I can file for unemployment.

But I don’t know how I’m going to be able to put the rent money together every month.

I called Baz, frantic. “What am I going to do? I need that money for rent. I don’t want to have to ask Ebb for money. She’ll just tell me to come back home.”

“How long is your lease?”

“Month to month.”

“Then put in your notice right away. And come move in with me.”

“I can’t do that, Baz.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“Because I can’t just live off you.”

“It’s only temporary, Simon. And I want you here, as my roommate. I’ve been worried about how good of a job you’ve been doing, social distancing, anyway, and now I’ll be able to keep a better eye on you. Make sure you’re staying safe.”

“What am I going to do with all my stuff?” I ask. “I don’t want to get rid of all that nice furniture from Ebb. And my TV?”

“Well, some of it you can bring to my place… you saw how much room I have. And will Ebb let you keep some of it at hers?”

“Probably in her garage, yeah.”

“You know, another thing about all this that’s going on, Simon,” Baz says, “is we don’t know how long it’s going to last. It might be months. And the quarantine order might get stricter. What if the time comes when they prohibit all unnecessary travel between houses? We could be prevented from seeing each other, altogether.”

Is Baz over-worrying or just trying to make me feel better? Or is there really a chance we could be kept apart?

I couldn’t stand that… it would be horrible. Now that I have Baz, I need him. 

I decide this is no time to be stubborn or prideful. “I don’t ever want to be separated from you, Baz. If you’re willing to put up with me for a while… I would love to move in with you. I’ll give the landlord his notice and let him keep my security deposit.”

I can hear the relief in Baz’s voice over the phone. “I’ll help move your stuff. We can borrow a truck from Niall’s dad. Hell, I’ll drag Dev and Niall along and they can help carry stuff. We’ll all be roommates, now.”

“Baz, you’re the best.”


	7. Roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Baz move in together, to quarantine. Niall and Dev’s relationship gets more complicated.

The Book Club, Chapter 7

Simon:

This whole week has been a weird amalgam of change, loss, and stepping into the unknown, for me. 

I’m a guy who likes organization (hence the clipboards). But now my neatly planned days are disrupted and altered. There’s no job to go to, no classes (except online), no Book Club (though we may, at some point, try to figure out Zoom), and no running into friends like Aggie and Penny around campus.

I haven’t even been able to go on a good thinking walk by the river, since this whole thing started. 

The streets are disturbingly empty, with most businesses closed and most people, like me, staying indoors all day in our sweatpants. As if we’re waiting for the zombie apocalypse to pass before coming out again.

“Essential workers” still go to work but wear masks now. They often look grim. There’s a Hunger Games meme about that. Katniss Everdeen looking over her shoulder, bravely, giving a 3 finger salute. She’s on her way to the next danger. 

The meme says “Essential workers off to the Walmart Distribution Center.”

So that’s our lives, now.

Anyway, this is the backdrop for my packing. Everything outside’s changed and weird, people are hunkering down indoors, and I’m out of a job and forced to LEAVE my house, rather than stay in it like a cocoon. 

But I can’t really complain because I have a rescuer, of sorts: Baz.

What I would do right now without him, it’s hard to say. Move in with somebody else… probably Ebb (Mom). Return to my childhood, in a way. 

But Baz gave me a better alternative, and he’s been a rock through this whole thing, helping me. And I haven’t made that easy, with my weird emotional state. Talking to me and being in a relationship with me right now is kind of a minefield. I’ll admit that.

Baz brought me some flattened boxes and packing tape from his dad’s work, so I could start packing the smaller stuff. He’s also making room for me at his place, helping me decide what to bring (or put into storage), and hauling whatever I do need to his place, in small loads.

I’ve been going through all of it and trying to decide which things I should simply get rid of. Normally I would donate all of that to a thrift store, but I don’t think any of the stores are accepting donations right now. So whatever I discard will just end up in the dumpster.

Some of the moving stuff is surprisingly emotional. For instance, yesterday Baz asked me if I wanted to bring my bed to his place, in case we have a fight (-!!!!) or I need space and want to sleep alone. 

I think he was trying to be considerate of me, but in my current state of agitation this hit me over the head like a lead balloon.

“Are you already planning for us to break up?”

He looked aghast. “No, no… NO. I meant it in a good way… I just … don’t want you to feel trapped or obligated or anything, while you’re at my place. I want you by me. I want you every night… I just want you to freely choose… it.” He’s struggling for words, and I don’t think that’s a frequent occurrence for Baz. He’s looking at me like he wants me to forget he ever said it.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I get that… that’s nice, then. Sorry if I’m being touchy.” But then I add, “You should probably know this relationship has kind of become an all or nothing thing for me. By that I mean I can’t just go back to being acquaintances or neutral roommates, if we break up. If we break up I’ll go home to Ebb. I couldn’t be there by you and not have you be mine. I couldn’t do that.”

The words may sound hard-ass but I’m sniffling and tearing up as I say them. He hurries over to put his arms around me.

“If it’s all or nothing for us, then it’s going to be ‘all’. I promise, Simon. As far as I’m concerned, you might as well burn your old bed, right now. You won’t be needing it. You’re with me, now.”

“‘kay.” Sniffle.

********

Baz:

I’m learning a lot about Simon during this moving process. He is not a person who does things part-way or half-ass. He knows how to commit.

But he also sometimes jumps to conclusions. And he needs a lot of reassurance.

There was the “incident of the couch”. Simon had almost gone ballistic when I suggested we bring his bed, but then when I suggested the opposite, that we NOT bring his couch... that was wrong, too. 

“Baz, really? That’s our ‘illicit snuggle’ couch. It’s historic. We need that couch up in your room to keep the good memories rolling.”

“Again, just trying to be practical. It’s not easy to carry a couch upstairs, so I want to make sure you really need it. Are you sure we can’t make new memories in my bean bag chairs or on my futon?”

He looks at me with what can only be described as a cold expression (I didn’t even know that look was in his repertoire, but I file away the mental note that his blue eyes can, indeed, look very cold). He answers, “Nevermind, Baz. It obviously doesn’t mean as much to you as it does to me. We can certainly do without it.”

My eyes widen. Oh, that’s not good. The couch is more emotionally significant to our relationship than I realized.

Needless to say, Dev and I hauled the couch upstairs the next day. It took about forty minutes because we had to remove two doors from their hinges, in order to fit it through.

Then just when it seemed like the challenge of this move was all coming from Simon, I had to develop a few emotional snags of my own. For example: his plants. He owns no fewer than 14 potted plants of various sizes. I find this annoying, because none of them have proper attractive pots… they’re all still in the plastic containers he bought them in. And some of them, frankly, look like shit. There’s a vine that must be fourteen feet long and very sparse and scraggly, some asymmetrical jade plants (propped up by popsicle sticks and twist ties), and a defoliated bush that looks like it’s cousins with the Charlie Brown X-Mas tree.

These plants need light, and there are only two windows in the upstairs suite’s main living area. One is by my desk and the other is by my reading nook. So one of those areas needs to be disturbed in order to make room for the plants.

I feel a little bit suffocated and resentful, at that thought, as I suddenly find myself attached to these two areas, just as they are. It makes me fantasize about accidentally tripping, and sending all fourteen of Simon’s plants on a cartoonish trip to the dumpster.

That is a bad boyfriend thought that I do NOT share with Simon. And after a bit I maturely decide that my reading area can coexist with the plants if I move my chair out somewhat and invest in a pair of attractive plant stands. With plant stands, hanging pots, and some funky new pottery, the whole area could actually become a stylish addition. 

I could give him all that plant paraphernalia as a gift, and if I do it right he won’t see any of it as criticism of his taste.

I should probably relent and let him have a chair by the window, too.

So, yeah. I’m discovering that living together means all kinds of little compromises and revelations. When two people’s tastes converge... they don’t necessarily merge. 

I guess that’s what married people discover after the honeymoon.

Simon:

Once I’m all moved in, settled, and rested, I feel kind of bad for putting Baz through the wringer these past few days. I wonder if I can make it up to him.

I cook dinner for all of us… a proper spaghetti meal with garlic bread, salad and meatballs. I cook the sauce from scratch, which means hours of simmering and stirring it with a wooden spoon. The delicious smell wafts through the house as the sauce cooks down.

I set the table for all of us (not their normal practice-- they usually eat separately, in their chairs and / or in front of the TV). I tidy the kitchen, light candles, and ask Baz to find us a couple of bottles of red wine (he does).

When Niall comes by for supper, he whistles. “Simon that smells so good,” inhaling and smiling dramatically. “If Baz doesn’t marry you, I’m going to.” 

It’s meant as a joke but Baz and I turn bright red. Dev doesn’t seem any well too-pleased with it, either.

The food is a hit. We have just enough wine with the meal to feel pleasantly relaxed. Dev and Niall decide to watch a movie in the downstairs living room, while Baz and I head upstairs.

“Baz, I know I’ve probably been unbearable these past few days,” I begin, as we go up. I’m waiting for him to interrupt me with a ‘no you haven’t’-- but he doesn’t; he lets me finish. “How about I make it up to you with a really nice back rub and total body massage?”

He looks pleased at that idea. “I won’t say no to that. Sounds great.”

“Well... lock the door, close the shades, and start undressing,” I say, briskly. “I’ll get the room ready.” 

Baz raises an eyebrow in surprise but starts unbuttoning his shirt.

I’m used to giving back rubs to Penny, so I feel like an old pro at this. But I’m also going to make a few “improvements” and additions, tailored specially for Baz.

I’ve thought this all out.

First I strip away his nice bedspread and replace it with an old comforter of mine that I brought here. I want to use oil for the massage but also don’t want to ruin his bedding (I’m trying to give him a treat, not trash the place). 

I light the candles I brought from home, turning the overhead light off so we’ve nothing but candles and soft lamp light to see by. The effect is very relaxing and romantic.

The scene is almost set. 

“Why don’t you pick some music for us to listen to, Baz? Whatever you like.”

“How about some Erutan? You know, Celtic songs?”

“Not sure if I’ve heard that before, but okay. Go ahead and play it. It’s your choice, tonight.”

“This night keeps getting better and better,” he says, appreciatively. “So how much do you want me to take off when I undress?”

“Everything. All of it,” I answer in what I hope is a low sexy voice, with a wink and a smile. “Then lay on the bed on your stomach.”

Baz:

Can’t say I’ve ever had a back rub like this before.

I step out of my clothes and lay down, face forward, on the bed. I rest my head up on my arms so I can watch Simon.

He steps out of his own clothes, except for his boxers. He looks more relaxed than I’ve seen him all week. I think he even looks a little thinner.

This week has been hard on him, but what is he doing?

Something special for me.

(Finally I think we’re getting to the fun part about living together).

Simon’s curls frame his face very attractively. His blue eyes look sparkly… not cold at all. His body is as boyish and well-formed as I remember. I especially like his thighs and butt. He’s muscular there.

He crawls across the bed to me, straddling me from behind and sitting down on my butt. It feels surprisingly intimate, but he acts like it’s no big deal (I hope he doesn’t sit on Penny’s butt). 

He has a bottle of nice-smelling oil in his hand. He must have brought it from home. 

“Penny gave this to me, for a joke, once,” he admits, pouring some oil into one of his hands and then working his two hands together. “It’s edible. So you will be completely lickable and kissable, when I’m done.”

“Well thank you, Penny,” I say.

He starts by placing his hands at the top of my spine, swiping outwards both ways toward my shoulders. Then he grips my shoulders with strong hands and starts squeezing methodically. I immediately let out a happy groan. 

“That’s it,” he says. “Relax. Just let yourself sink into the bed.”

He gets some more oil then moves down the sides of my back. His hands are firm and warm as they stroke and rub away from my spine and down my sides. Then he spends some time just on my spine. He uses the palms of his hands to press down and rub in a circular motion. It feels heavenly. My face is now turned to one side and my eyes are closed; my lips are slack and open and if I’m not careful I’m going to drool.

I’m giving all of my attention to this moment, and what he is doing. 

He goes lower, to the small of my back and my thighs. It feels good, especially since he seems to be circling his attention around my butt. 

Then, thank heaven, he goes ahead and plants two hands firmly on my ass, and starts massaging it— kneading and working the flesh and muscle there.

“Ohhh…” I groan. “I had no idea my ass was so tired. And neglected.”

“It has my full attention, now,” he answers.

After spending a fair amount of time there, he moves lower, returning to the back of my thighs.

He takes his massage all the way down my legs and even extends it to my feet. I moan when he gets there… he works each part of my foot like it deserves attention, and the part where he rubs each toe between his thumb and fingers is a revelation.

Having gone all the way down me, he works his way all the way up again. But this time when he reaches my neck, he goes higher, massaging fingers all the way up my hairline and scalp. 

When he gives me these attentions, he’s so gentle. He leans forward and adds kisses to each spot. Then he kisses my shoulders. He runs his hands down my back, stroking down in broad movements. He runs his hands across my arms and down my legs with the same fast broad strokes.

I feel like every part of this side of my body has been touched and appreciated.

I’m not surprised when he returns to massaging my butt. I felt like we had unfinished business, there. And this time he slides a sly hand between my legs and gently includes my sack in his ministrations.

That coaxes a long moan out of me. I lift my hips up a little, with him on top of me.

He flips me over.

He’s still straddling me, but now he’s sitting lightly over my crotch area. And my crotch area likes him there. He looks down at me and smiles as he rubs more oil into his hands. His curly hair is falling into his eyes but he doesn’t want to touch his hair with oily hands so he just kind of tries to blow and flick the hair away. And I see a muscle by his jaw flex… also I’m drawn to how long and strong his neck is. Mmm.

He starts rubbing the front of my body, again starting at the shoulders.

I watch him as he tends to me. He licks his lips and watches me back, looking into my eyes carefully and tenderly. “Can you tell how much I love your body?” he says. “How does everything feel? I want you to feel good.”

“I feel,” I say, emphatically, “so good.”

He leans forward and kisses me. He’s rubbing oil onto my chest as he does it… including my nipples. They are surprisingly sensitive right now… maybe it’s the oil. But I find myself really enjoying it when he starts massaging my pecs and rubbing thumbs up my nipples.

“Let’s see how good this oil tastes,” he says, lowering his head to my chest and running his tongue lightly over one of my nipples. I inhale sharply. That’s good. I’m starting to squirm now and reach up to touch him back. He smiles and notes my response.

“Mmm,” he says. “You taste good, really good.” He turns his head to my other side and gives that nipple a lick and then a bunch of fast mini-licks. “Very tasty.” I feel now that his cock is hard. I reach up and grasp it through his shorts.

“Oh,” he breathes. And then he sinks down into me and reaches for my lips with a kiss. I open my mouth almost immediately to signal that I am more than ready for anything. His tongue answers me confidently.

I reach for his hips because now I want to pull him down so we can commence our usual method of getting one another off. But then Simon sits up and reaches for the bottle again. 

Simon:

I want to do this. I think I’m ready for it.

I want to put my mouth on Baz’s cock. I want to lick him up, down, and everywhere. I want to swallow the length of him as far into my mouth as it will go.

We haven’t done blow jobs yet. It’s been two months, but there hasn’t been any rush because the wanking between us has been so good.

But I’m ready for the next step.

I have oil on my hands, so I start by scooting back a little, to see Baz’s cock properly. I rub the oil from my hands onto his cock in broads, slow strokes. Baz thinks he knows where this is headed, but suddenly I duck my head down and lick his cock, starting at the base and moving upward to the tip. 

I swirl with my tongue there, like Baz sometimes does with his thumb when he’s wanking me.

“Oh, Simon. Oh…”. 

I think I surprised him pretty good. 

The problem is that I haven’t done this before. I’ve never given or received a blow job. What if I do it wrong? Baz has presumably done stuff like this before, so he’ll have other experiences to compare it to.

That said, he seems to like what I’m doing. I’m bobbing my head up and down now, holding my tongue and lips so they brush against his cock evenly and with constant pressure, while keeping my teeth as out of the picture as possible. I hold him from the base with my hand… I rub and cradle his sack with my hand. Sometimes I mouth at it. Baz seems to like it a lot. 

“Is this okay?” I say after a while. “Should I do something different?”

“Simon, what you’re doing feels really good.”

“Maybe you should do it to me first, so I know how to do it properly.”

Baz: 

I’m very close to coming, but Simon wants me to stop so I can give him a blow job, first.

I actually don’t mind that.

I reach up and cup the sides of his face. I pull him down to me and kiss him. Then I gently roll us around, so I’m on top.

I take a moment to look into his eyes and see if I can read or connect with how he’s feeling. I see desire but also fear and uncertainty.

“Simon,” I say softly, “I’ve never been with anyone as sexy as you. Everything you do to me feels great. I’m so attracted to you.” But then I add, “That said, I would love to give you a blow job.”

I move off to the side of him, and scoot down a little. I kiss my way down his chest and rub small circles on his stomach. 

I go lower, and now I kiss the inside of his thighs. His legs are shaking, but he’s watching me now. He’s propped up on his elbows like he’s really in suspense… wants to see this next part.

Guess I’ll give him a show.

Looking up at him, meeting his eyes, I grip his penis in my hand so as to better wrap my wet lips around it. I swallow him slowly. His eyes close and his head rolls back. “Fuck,” he says, fervently.

He reaches down to where my head is between his legs and threads his fingers through my hair. He grabs a handful of it, lightly, as I pull away enough to swirl my tongue around his tip.

I want him so badly. I was close to coming earlier, but this is better. I love giving him pleasure. Nothing compares to feeling him, tasting him, hearing all his sighs and shivers. I want to be the head between his thighs, the one he clutches and calls for. 

How quickly he’s become everything to me. I used to go whole days without thinking of him, when he was just a crush. Now I have an awareness of him that’s such that his opinion and point of view stays with me throughout the day. I’m always thinking “Simon would like this” or “Simon would think this is terrible” or “I’m going to have to bring him here someday to taste this/see this/hear this.”

I love that all this is new and wonderful to him, and that if we end up always being together, I’ll be the only person he ever has this intimacy with.

Simon:

Baz’s mouth moving wet on my cock is amazing and so much better than a hand (though a hand is easier).

I’m clenching my fist in his hair, my head is thrown back, and my eyes are pressed tightly shut.

I’m going to come. 

Now I wonder if I should warn Baz. What if I end up shooting come into his mouth. Will he be disgusted, spit it out?

“Baz,” I warn. “I’m close.”

He just keeps going. He doesn’t pull away. 

Everything feels amazing. I finally reach that place where there’s no going back… I know I’m going to come. I open my eyes, and after clutching them shut so long there are stars and flashes of light. “Ohh!” I say loudly. “Oh god, Baz,” and I pump into him. I shudder as each wave of pleasure rides through me. 

Baz’s lips stay on me the whole time. He swallows my come and I … feel so accepted.

I love him.

I feel like I float back to earth. Baz pulls himself up so our faces are together and kisses me. I think about how my cock and my come were just in his mouth (that makes the kiss sexier). 

It feels so good to lay with him, all spent. But I can’t relax till he’s feeling just as good as I am. 

“Baz,” I say. “I think I know what to do now.”

I pull up and scoot lower, running a hand down his still slippery chest, to his stomach. I let my hand smooth over the taut skin of his abs, feel where his muscles rise or divot.

I lean over and press kisses there. He sighs and shifts, laying a loose hand on my hair.

“Oh, Simon,” he sighs. 

I take my kisses lower. I reach down to his sack and start working him there. His legs fall open, and I know he’s looking down at me. Tenderly.

My heart aches.

I kiss the shaft of his hard cock. I bet it’s aching as much as my heart is, right now. I swirl my tongue around the head and across his slit.

I taste precome. I lap it up hungrily before wrapping my lips around the head of his cock. I take him in as far as I can.

He groans.

I start moving slowly, bobbing my head up and down as my hand firmly clenches the base of his cock. His breathing is increasingly rapid. I glance up and now his head is back, eyes shut, his face averted to the side. He’s biting his lip.

So beautiful.

I increase my speed. I take him in as far as I can without gagging. I lick him from different angles. I suck and let my cheeks hollow out. 

He’s moaning and clutching a handful of my hair. His other hand is resting on my shoulder.

He’s going to come.

“Simon, I… I’m gonna… I’m… oh-ohhhh...”

And he’s coming inside my mouth. 

It’s good. I swallow his come easily… gratefully. All I can think in my head is “darling Baz”, like we’re characters in a novel.

I love everything about him; I want to take him all inside, as if this is his essence. I pull my lips away softly, and he whimpers, like my breaking the contact is part relief, part pain.

I scoot back up and lay my head against his chest. He’s warm and there’s a sheen of sweat mixed with oil against my cheek. He holds me tenderly and I feel his embrace tighten. I rest a hand over his heart and listen to his heart beat against me.

I love him. I’m sure of it, now.

Baz:

Simon and I have a very good thing going here. If he had twelve more couches, each with increasingly silly sentimental memories attached, I would haul them all up here (gladly and until my back breaks), for him. 

And if the local Walmart had a sale, after which he came home with fifty plastic plants (each more hideous than the last), I would construct a skylight on our ceiling. And we would have ourselves a forest.

It feels like we are honeymooners, now. If we had the place to ourselves, we would probably walk around naked. Sometimes I catch myself watching him as he walks across the room, or sticks the end of a pencil in his mouth as he frowns over a crossword. Then he’ll glance up and catch me looking. His face will slowly start to blush and his eyes will melt into mine.

We’re ga-ga like that. Absolutely over the moon.

I love him, and I’ll tell him very soon, because it’s all I can think about. We’re close to having sex, I know we are, so I’m also wondering if I should “save” those words for the first time. 

I feel certain he feels the same. 

if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Dev and Niall may have taken notice of our increased intimacy. Certainly they are very respectful of our privacy, spending plenty of their own time behind closed doors.

I used to think Dev had permanently friend-zoned Niall, for emotional protection purposes.

I think he’s wavering on that.

Niall:

There’s sex in the air now, and it’s not coming from me (unfortunately). It started a couple of days after Simon moved in.

I don’t mean a smell. It doesn’t smell like sex. It feels like sex, like everything’s electrically charged.

It’s their looks back and forth. It’s fingertips resting lightly on the small of Simon’s back.

It’s all the hours they spend upstairs behind a locked door.

I’m going crazy. I know Dev feels it, too. Last night when we were watching a movie together, my legs bumped his and Dev flinched. He looked at me but then looked away quickly.

There’s so much tension between us.

Simon:

Niall’s washing dishes and I’m drying, because it’s Thursday and that’s what’s on the clipboard.

At first Niall hated the kitchen clipboard. He wouldn’t stop giving me shit about it, and I almost took it down. But damn it, he wasn’t doing his share of the chores around here, and I thought what better way to show him than to list all of our equally divided household chores, in black and white.

On the clipboard.

But I stayed firm, and dang it…. now he does chores.

The trick to getting Niall to do things is to pair him up with someone else. He gets bored if he’s working by himself. So now he does dishes twice a week with me, cooks twice a week with Dev, and folds laundry while Baz vacuums around him.

It’s like a fucking miracle.

I’ve been living with the guys a month now, and we’re still in quarantine. It’s been rough for all of us, in different ways. I miss seeing Penny and all my usual going out, which included numerous trips to restaurants. Baz worries about how his LGBTQ+ friends are doing without being able to stop by the office. He misses his little sisters and brother, too… his stepmom, Daphne, has been triggered into an overly-cautious phase and is keeping them home and away from everyone in a little isolation bubble.

But it’s easier for us because we have each other and this intense always-developing, always-exciting physical and emotional relationship. We still haven’t gone all the way, but now that I’m comfortable with Baz, and there are so many feelings between us, i’m less afraid. I know it will be alright. 

The true quarantine drama is coming from Dev and Niall.

Dev is probably more exasperated than ever from being cooped up with Niall. Niall is a decent guy but a needy fuck, never wanting to be alone and always wanting to chatter.

Dev’s pretty patient with that, but it must be getting old. I actually came across Niall talking to Dev about some video game they play while Dev was shut behind the bathroom door, trying to take a shit. I mean, it’s just like he was a little kid!

I love how Baz knows how to be quiet. (Just one of the million things I love about him).

But I shouldn’t be so rough on Niall. He’s a social butterfly, so isolation is like the worst kind of punishment for him. He keeps trying to think up excuses to run to the store, but we have to be firm with him and our plan to shop once every two weeks. 

But it’s not really shopping that he wants. What he misses most are the parties. And probably the girls.

So I’m washing dishes with Niall, and he’s kind of quiet right now, which is weird. His hands are in the dishwater, and he’s thoughtfully scrubbing a pan.

He surprises me with a question. “How did you get Baz to start liking you?”

I raise my eyebrows. “I don’t know. I guess the first thing was probably let him know I liked him.”

“How’d you do that? Did you kiss him?”

I frown and think it over. We’ve been together three months, now, so that was a while ago. “I think it started with snuggling under a blanket while we watched a movie. But also, we talked. I told him I liked him.”

“Well how in the hell do you work that into a conversation?” Niall asks.

“That kind of conversation is very easy to start, once you’ve snuggled under a blanket together.” But then I think about it more. “I’m actually going to make a correction, here. Probably the first thing I ever did to let Baz know I like him is to tell him that I’m gay. So that he would understand that something between me and him was a possibility. You’ve got to do that because it sets the groundwork.”

“Well that won’t work for me. I’m bi.” Niall responds. Is he being sarcastic or is he that much of a literal thinker?

“Who are you talking about, Niall? Who do you like?”

“Dev, of course. I like Dev.”

“Well. That’s kind of what I thought. Just wanted to be sure we were talking about the same person, though.” I pause. “How long have you liked him?”

“I think it’s been… years. I’ve liked him so long I can’t even remember for sure. I mean, we were always friends, but by the time high school rolled around it was changing. I was noticing things about him. Thinking about things.”

“Does he know that?”

“I dunno. Sometimes I think so, but then other times… it’s like he’s deliberately thick about it. And he keeps this barrier up.”

“Could it be you’ve been sending him mixed signals? I mean, clearly you have dated other people these past few years.”

“Well what am I supposed to do when he won’t let me kiss him? Or sleep with him? A guy has needs.” Oh, Niall.

“See, that’s your error, right there. Guys like Baz and Dev need you to get real specific with them. They need to know you like them, specifically.”

“Well, shit. That’s probably true. In which case I’ve fucked up irrevocably and now I’m screwed.”

I decide to give Niall a little self-improvement pep talk. “You can change your ways. It won’t be easy, but you can try something different. I mean, now you’re in isolation and you can’t date other people, anyway. Be really nice to him. Tell him you like him. Have a heart to heart next time you’re cooking dinner with him.”

He looks at me, skeptical. “Do you really think that would work?” He frowns, and adds, “What if he says no?”

“Well, I guess you have to respect that, you have to back off. But let him know your feelings are still there… that you genuinely like him. That’s what you do if you really like someone... you stick around. You try to win him over,” I say, as I dry and put away the last dish. We’re done now.

“Seeing as I can’t go anywhere during this quarantine, I have no choice but to stick around.”

“Do NOT say that to him. If you make him feel like you’re just resorting to him because you’re stuck together, he’s going to shoot you down.”

“Damn. That’s a good point.”

“Another thing is, don’t go to him drunk. He’ll think it’s the beer talking and he won’t believe you.”

He nods. “I already made that mistake once.”

Niall: 

The night I kissed Dev for the first time, I was drunk.

It was the night of our party. Simon and Baz had gone missing and a lot of people had started going home. The keg was empty so there wasn’t a whole lot of reason for anyone to stay.

I had been talking to the same girl for about an hour… Delilah. She was pretty and spent a lot of time looking at me as she leaned against the wall and sipped her beer through a straw (weird). 

But she was also looking all around the room. When her friends started talking about leaving, she left to get her jacket. 

Another night alone, for me.

When everyone was gone and I lay in my bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about Dev. 

I got up and walked over to his closed door. I laid my hand on the door and just stood there, breathing.

I turned the knob. I pushed the door open, softly. “Dev?”

“What?”

I walk over and sit on the side of his bed. “What is it?” He asks again. He’s frowning.

“It’s… I… you.” As if that would explain everything.

“Did something happen?” He’s sitting up now. 

I swallow hard. I’m moving closer. I grab him by the arms and close my eyes.

My lips are on his lips. It feels so good I just want to melt. I press closer and push his lips open with my tongue.

He shudders. I take that as a positive response. I feel him start kissing me back.

But then he breaks away, violently.

“What are you doing?” He says, angrily.

“I… I just wanted. I thought… I’m sorry.”

And I get up and run out of the room.


	8. Thunderstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz is feeling moody and dark during a thunderstorm. The “L” word is mentioned for the first time. Also they move closer to anal sex.

The Book Club, Chapter 8

Simon:

I’m downstairs watching Dev and Niall play Clash of Clans and bicker over elixir because I want to give Baz privacy. He’s upstairs in our room practicing the violin. 

I love hearing him play and would rather be upstairs, but I know when I’m around he isn’t as comfortable trying the new stuff… I think because he doesn’t want to mess up (he’s a bit of a perfectionist). When I’m upstairs, he only ever seems to play things he’s memorized.

So here I am with Dev and Niall, listening to them goad and trash talk each other about clan business. It’s actually a pretty hilarious exchange they’re having, made better by the fact that they are both so serious about protecting the clan from each other’s incompetence.

But while they’re busy organizing their next campaign, or whatever it is they do, I’m starting to notice how the rain outside has turned into more of a thunderstorm. The thunder, lightning, and wind has gotten intense. Dev and Niall aren’t really noticing that the way I am.

Therefore I’m not as startled as they are when the lights flicker off and on. The third time the lights go out, they stay out.

We’ve lost power.

“Shit! Can you believe this?? Of course we lose power now,” Niall wails. “I was just about to lead us to victory.”

“You were just about to walk into a trap and get the whole clan killed. So I’d say it was a mercy power outage,” Dev replies.

“Wanker.”

I get up with a sigh. “Fascinating as it’s been, boys, I’m going to go check on Baz.”

“Check on him, huh?” Niall mutters. “So that’s what they’re calling it, now…”

I suspect Niall’s jealous and sniping at me because he hasn’t had his talk with Dev yet, so I’m not bothered. (He’s free to talk to him anytime). As I leave the room I hear Dev hiss at Niall, “Why do you always have to be such a prick?”

Roommates in quarantine. Good times.

As I fumble around for the door and make my way out to the staircase, my eyes adjust to the darkness. The closer I get, the more clearly I can hear Baz’s violin… he’s either found a light to see by or he’s playing one of the songs he’s memorized.

I open the door. I can just make out Baz’s silhouette by the window, as he sits in his chair. A flash of lightning illuminates him. He looks gothic and dramatic, of course, playing violin in the midst of a storm. 

I’m as quiet as I can be while closing the door, but he must hear me anyway because he stops playing long enough to say, “Guess it’s a good thing we have candles in the room. Could you light us a few?”

I do. I know there’s a lighter in the nightstand drawer so I find it before heading over to the candles. I light each one (there are two on either side of our bed) before walking a candle over to Baz at the window, cupping the flame carefully with my hand.

“Thank you,” he says as I set it down. He moves his sheet music closer until it falls under the candle’s glow.

I slip into a chair across from him and let my eyes fall on his face. He looks beautiful. His dark hair frames his face in shadow, even as the flame attempts to illuminate it. His eyes are hooded with dark lashes, but when he looks up at me I see a tiny version of the candle’s light flicker in each of his eyes. His full lips are shut tightly, and he’s frowning slightly.

I don’t know what the name of this song is, but it’s definitely melancholy. Have I ever heard him playing a happy song on the violin? Maybe that’s the instrument… maybe all the songs played on violin sound sad. Because why would Baz be anything but happy, right? He’s got a good life, he’s got me…

When the song is finished, he sets down his violin and bow. He comes over by where I’m sitting and kneels on the floor beside me. He lays his head on my lap.

“You okay, Baz?” I ask.

“Oh yeah. Fine,” he answers. “Just a little gloomy… you know. Must be all these days stuck inside. How many has it been? Forty?”

“Something like that. But why do you seem sad? Are you thinking about something?” I ask.

“A couple of things.”

“Your mother?”

Baz has a stepmom now because his mother died in a car accident when he was little. He’s already told me the story. He was in the car when it happened, but was spared because he was safely buckled into the back seat. Help came quickly, but for a while he was in the car crying for his mother while she just lay there strapped in, her head hanging to the side at a weird angle.

“Yes, that. And also my dad.”

“Your dad?”

He sighs. “When I first came out to him, he didn’t take it well. I thought he was going to kick me out of the house or ground me forever.”

“How long did it take for him to accept it?”

Baz laughed, humorlessly. “I’m not sure he has accepted it, yet. Certainly we don’t talk about it.”

This surprises me because Baz is an LGBTQ+ advocate. You would think he would be the poster boy for open communication with parents.

“He knows you date, though, right?”

“Oh, yes. The closet door is wide open. We just don’t discuss it.”

There’s a question I want to ask, but it seems invasive and tacky, in light of having just spoken about his mother. But I’m trying to picture how it all went down with his dad, so I go ahead and ask, “When did you first start… you know. When did you first get a boyfriend?”

Baz looks at me in the darkness, his face unreadable. “My first boyfriend was in my sophomore year of high school. He was a foreign exchange student.”

“Really?” I ask, feeling a kernel of jealousy start growing inside me. (Of course the boyfriend would have to be exotic and exciting). “What country?”

“France.” (The most romantic country of them all, of course).

“Was it love?” (I don’t know why I’m asking these questions. Am I a masochist?).

Baz hesitates. “I thought so, at the time. But in retrospect, no. It wasn’t love.”

“How did things end?”

“He went back to France and we wrote letters and texted for a few months. But then the communication just sort of stopped. I’m pretty sure he found somebody new. I never knew for sure.”

“Well, he was daft to let you go but I’m glad he didn’t keep you forever,” I state firmly. I pull Baz up onto my lap (he’s all long legs).

I can’t help but ask an even more probing question. “Did you go all the way with him?”

Baz doesn’t answer. “Does it matter?”

I think that means yes. “No.”

“Simon, everyone I’ve ever slept with has left me, eventually.”

The words fall and lie there between us, heavy. I meet them with silence.

I’m sorry for him, when he says it like that, but I’m also... jealous? Angry? Because how many guys has he slept with? And why hasn’t he “slept” with me yet? (I know the answer to that, but I’m being peckish).

My feelings are too complicated to say the right thing back to him quickly. 

So he starts to pull away gently from me. I won’t let him. My grip on his wrists tightens.

Baz:

Why is Simon asking me questions like this?

We’ve been going out three months together… almost four. And living together almost two.

We still haven’t had anal intercourse. And that’s been mostly because we were waiting for him to get comfortable enough to initiate it. We talked about it and I let him know that I was satisfied keeping it to all the other ways we’ve found to be intimate, and we’ve been happily exploring those other ways.

But I wonder if there’s another, more subconscious reason for the delay. I’m wondering if part of me is afraid the thing with Simon will be over once we finally cross that line? So maybe I’m in no hurry to do so?

That idea doesn’t make sense and there is no logical reason for it to be true. But the part of me that just told Simon “everyone I’ve ever slept with has left me, eventually” isn’t so sure.

“I shouldn’t have asked you. I shouldn’t have pried.” Simon tells me.

“I’m not trying to keep secrets from you,” I answer.

“I know. You’ve helped me so much, Baz. I really care about you.”

On the one hand, I’m glad he’s saying that to me. But on the other hand, it’s not enough. I love him. I don’t want to be just “cared about”, like a friend.

I pull away and stand up. I start putting my violin back in its case.

“This is the part where you tell me how much you care about me,” Simon says, in a broken voice.

“You know I do.”

“Baz,” he says, getting up, walking over to me. “Come lie on the bed with me, please.”

I let him take my hand and lead me over to the bed. We lie down on top of the covers.

“Okay, Baz,” he says. “Remember that part in The Hunger Games when Peeta’s hurt and just about dying and Katniss has to take care of him? And it becomes obvious to everybody but those two that they have feelings for each other and they should just come right out and say it?”

“Yes?”

“Well I’m going to say it now, Baz. I love you. I’ve been falling in love with you almost from the beginning, from when we first started dating. And my feelings… they keep getting stronger. I just… I love you so much.”

He’s holding my hands now, and looking into my eyes. He means it. 

I thought maybe he loved me, but hearing him say it… my heart soars. I can only answer back, “I love you too, Simon.”

“Really, Baz? Really? More than that French guy? Or about the same?”

“More, Simon.”

“How about all the guys who came after him?”

“There were only two that were significant. And I definitely didn’t love them like this.” And before he can say any more stupid things, I lean forward and kiss him. 

We kiss for a long time.

“How long, Baz? How long have you loved me?”

“Probably as long as you,” I admit, hesitating before adding, “Although I noticed you around campus a full two years ago and have had a bit of a crush this whole time.”

“No. Way.” Simon sounds in awe of that, like I’ve just told him the best thing ever.

“Well look how cute you are… all that curly blonde hair. Of course I liked you. But once I got to know you… I loved you.”

We go back to kissing. Simon is lying on top of me again, pushing his knee between my legs. “You make me,” he says, between kisses, “so happy.” Another kiss. “I wish I could make you that happy, Baz.”

“I am happy, Simon. I’m just kind of a serious person, I guess. I’ll never be as light-hearted as you. I’ll probably always have more of a sad side than you. But I promise I’m happy. I promise I love you.”

Simon:

I roll us onto our sides and prop my head up on my hand so I can see Baz better. My eyes are used to the dark now, but also sometimes there’s a flash of lightning and I see him very clearly. I’m tracing the parts I see with my fingertips… his nose, his shoulder, down his arm. He’s lying on his back and thinking about something, a far away look in his eye (I wish he was smiling).

I love him; he loves me. 

You would think that would be enough. 

But the rest of the world doesn’t go away. There’s still all the other stuff. Everything that happened years ago, before we met. All the broken relationships and the unknowns. 

There’s the complication of this quarantine, that’s made our world so physically small… much fewer of those welcome distractions we all look for. Everything’s down to the elemental… the four walls, the people we find ourselves with, and whatever’s inside of our heads.

I lean forward and kiss him on the side of his lips, which coaxes a smile out of him. I scooch down further so I can lay my head on his chest. 

He wraps his arms around me.

“You’re my first love, Baz. First, best, and last.”

He gives me a squeeze and kisses the top of my head. “I can say the same thing, Simon, because it wasn’t really love before.”

I hum happily and roll on top of him. “That,” I say, kissing him on one, then the other side of his face, “makes me very happy.”

I start nuzzling his neck, and he’s moving his head so I can better reach his neck. I’m already getting hard, so I rub that against him, too. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Mmm, Simon. I want you…”.

He starts pulling up my shirt. I lean back and pull it up over my head. A flash of lightning reveals my chest and he runs his hands down it before grabbing my hips and pulling me toward him.

But I need his skin, too.

We undress each other hurriedly.

He brushes a hand down below my waist till he finds my cock and wraps his fingers hungrily around it. I moan; his skin on my skin feels so good.

“How do you want it tonight?” he asks, breathlessly.

“Whatever you want to do. I love all of it,” I answer, honestly.

He pushes me back on the bed and sinks his head down between my legs. He starts kissing the inside of my thighs and stroking, then cupping, my sack with his hand. I’m moaning and squirming back into the bed. It feels so good. 

Everything he does feels so good.

He reaches over to get the lube (we don’t bother to put it away between uses, anymore). I lick my lips in anticipation of the pleasure as he slicks his hands. He leans forward and runs fingers over my nipples, which makes me shiver, before saying in a low voice, “I’m going to touch you... in a new place. Stop me if it feels too strange. Do you trust me? Will you let me try it awhile?”

I think I know what he means to do. I swallow and nod. “Yes. Do it, Baz.”

First he rubs the excess oil onto my cock, which slides easily under his hands. That’s as familiar and exquisite as ever. I let out a long shuddering breath.

Then he runs his fingers and palm back over my sack, cradling me in his hands and kissing my lips.

That’s good, too, but I’m waiting.

And then he does it. He moves his finger tips back to my rim and rubs back and forth against it, waiting for me to respond. “This okay?” he asks.

I feel shy about it, but kind of excited. I know I’m safe with Baz; anytime I tell him to stop, he will.

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s fine.”

He smiles and kisses my lips again. “Just fine, huh?” Now he’s rubbing a lubricated and more confident finger around my rim in circles. I gasp.

He sits up so he can work my cock with one hand and keep doing circles around my rim with the other. The two things together are… oh. 

He’s driving me crazy.

“I like it, Baz,” I whisper.

“Mmm, that’s good. Going to try something else, here. Try not to be shocked… it’s going to feel strange at first,” Baz warns me.

“Okay,” I say, swallowing. 

“You’re tensing up,” he observes.

“Well Christ, can you blame me?”

“Relax.”

I breathe out; I remember to trust him. He returns to doing the small gentle circles for a while, before slowly sliding a finger partially up me.

It does feel weird. I wouldn’t say it feels sexual, either. Just weird. 

But it doesn’t hurt.

“Okay?” he checks. “Can I go farther?”

“Yes,” I breathe. He slides his finger back slowly, till he’s almost all the way out, before re-entering. This time he slowly plunges his finger all the way in. I gasp. 

He keeps checking on me and taking it slow, and once I’m comfortable with the feeling and the motion, he crooks his finger. 

The crooked finger is a revelation. Suddenly I get “the point” of what all this is about. He hits a spot inside me that likes to be touched, and I inadvertently moan. He smiles and kisses me while continuing to thrust into me with his finger, bumping and rubbing that spot again and again. 

It’s so easy to have his finger in me, now.

“I’m going to add another,” he says. “We’ll stop at two tonight, okay? But this is how we’ll gradually prepare you. So when it comes time for ‘the real deal’, you’ll be able to relax. You’ll be ready.”

I clutch onto his shoulders. “Okay; do it. I think I want to feel more.”

The second finger actually slides in easier than the first one did, I think because I am more relaxed. (I like it a lot.) When he crooks it and gets that good angle again, I purr like a kitten.

Satisfied with our progress, he pulls out and returns to kissing me. His hand returns to my cock and I grab his, as well. We kiss and stroke each other until our breathing gets heavy and labored. 

“You’re so hot, Simon,” he says, slowing down to talk. “I can imagine what it’s going to be like when you let me inside you. I think I’ll die from it, I want you so bad… you feel so good.”

“I’m excited for it too, now, after this. I want to be with you in every way. I want to be with you completely, and now I know I can. I know it won’t hurt me.”

“I would never, ever hurt you.”

We resume our efforts on each other, and before long the strokes are more sloppy and frantic. We’re getting close. It’s a challenge to do this and come at the same time, but we look for each other’s signals. I say it first, “Now, Baz,” and I’m insistent in my warning. He lets out a long moan of relief, and we both move our hands faster, muscles straining, breathing reduced to a choppy series of gasps. 

I try to keep the movement of my hand steady as I come, but of course that’s impossible. And it doesn’t really matter… Baz is over the edge, too. Our come shoots out and joins the mess of sweat and oil we’re already both smeared with. As my body peaks and I clench my eyes tightly together, a big burst of lightning flashes. I open my eyes and see the rapture on Baz’s face. 

We collapse into each other’s arms like we just lost our bones and are completely spent. He chuckles and I start burying my face in his sweaty hair.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you, Baz,” I answer, and there are actual tears clouding around my eyes. 

I love him so much I’m overwhelmed.

“Hey, hey,” he says, lifting my chin up with his hand. He’s noticed my wet face. “Now who’s not properly happy?”

“These are tears of joy, prick.”

He laughs loudly, and it sounds great.

“Should we take a shower?” I ask.

“Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Ampithoe for beta reading this chapter!


	9. Return to the Willow Tree (alternately titled "End the Deniall")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Baz go on a sunshine-filled outing to the scene of their first date. Simon gets permission from the rest of the guys to have his book club friends over for a movie night. Niall FINALLY has that serious conversation with Dev he's been putting off...

The Book Club, Chapter 9

Baz:

I’m lying in bed next to Simon, watching him sleep. He’s crushingly handsome, of course, his dark blonde curls longer than I’ve ever seen them before. I let one curl wrap itself around my finger (careful not to wake him). 

But. Lovely as his long hair is, it’s also a reminder of how long we’ve been stuck in quarantine.

He sleeps more than he used to. If it wasn’t for food and the need to go downstairs to the kitchen, where Dev and Niall might be, I’m sure a lot of his days Simon would just stay undressed and lie in bed, waking just long enough to reach for me and pull me to him for some love, occasionally. And use the bathroom.

We need to get out of this house. We need an outing.

I reach down and kiss his lips, nuzzle his neck, until he wakes up slowly. “Mmm, Baz,” he says, with closed eyes.

“Wake up, Simon. Take a shower and get dressed. We’re going somewhere.”

“Going somewhere? Where?”

“We’re going for a walk by the river, but first we’re going to stop and pick up some breakfast scones.”

“All right,” he says, “yeah. That sounds good.”

“Take a shower, first. I want us to spread out our blanket beneath that willow tree we kissed at before… remember?”

“How could I ever forget it?” he murmurs back.

So we both take showers, dress, and pack some things for us in a backpack. Niall and Dev are still sleeping when we leave (it’s only about 8:00 in the morning... I can’t believe Simon agreed to get up this early).

Hardly anyone is out, of course. We hold hands and walk down the sidewalk toward the river and the university. It’s sunny and I think the birds are louder than they used to be… or maybe it only seems that way, because traffic is quieter.

We put our masks on and walk into the bake shop. We pick out an assortment of scones, though most of them end up being sour cherry, for Simon.

It feels so good to be… not in the house. And Simon’s feeling it, too; there’s more of a twinkle in his eyes than I’ve seen in awhile. He’s smiling and squeezing my hand and looking at me fondly. 

I take him to that place I used to skip rocks at. We do that until Simon starts poking along the shore for interesting pieces of driftwood. We find a couple of small polished branches he says we need for a window sill of our apartment, as well as some blue and green river glass (“This stands for us, Baz… the color of our eyes. Yours get kind of green, sometimes”).

When we reach the boardwalk by the river, Simon convinces me to race. “To the light pole. That one by the flag.” He does a “ready, set, go” and then reprimands me twice for false starts (“you were moving before I said go”).

What a control freak (my control freak). He might as well be charting our start times with a stopwatch and his clipboard.

Then we’re running and he darts ahead of me. My legs may be longer but he has the stamina. By the time we reach the light pole I’m out of breath. 

“Victory!” he says, spinning around in a circle, with me in his arms, kissing me as I huff and puff.

“We need to get you doing more cardio,” he says.

“Sure, fine, but do I do that before or after I smoke my cigarettes?”

“Baz,” he warns, “don’t be a bad baby. You’re my baby, you know. Also my lover and my honeybunch and my sweetheart… and my sugar… and…”.

“Okay; I get the point.” We kiss as a breeze from the river kicks up around us, and it feels wonderful.

Like we’re really, really alive.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand again and pulling me back down the boardwalk. “Not far till we get to our willow tree.”

Our willow tree. Just as Simon’s sentimental about his couch, I’ve formed an attachment to this tree (where we had our first truly long and steamy kiss). We came here the day of our first “date”, the study date, which followed the day of our first physical contact (under the blanket on movie night).

So many wonderful memories.

We get to the tree and slip under the canopy. It’s shady and the grass is still damp from the morning dew, but I spread out our blanket and we sit down. We break into the bag of scones and Simon starts moaning with the first bite.

“I hope there’s no passerby,” I remark. “They’re going to think we’re up to no good when they hear all that moaning.”

“Eh… let ‘em hear it. Scones like these need loud appreciation.”

When we’re done and we’ve had some of the juice I brought in a thermos, I surprise Simon by pulling out a book. “I’m going to read you some poetry,” I declare. “Put your head on my lap.”

I love how, even though we’ve never done this before, Simon doesn’t question or hesitate. He is immediately prepared to listen to poetry on my lap.

“What are we reading today?” he asks, settling in to get comfortable.

“Updike,” I answer. “I have several picked out. This first one’s called ‘Ode to Rot’.”

He laughs, and I watch his lips spread to reveal white teeth and the most darling dimple. (I can’t resist laying a finger over the top of that dimple).

“Yes,” I say firmly. “Now listen, well.” (I clear my throat).

“Der gute Herr Gott  
Said, “Let there be rot,”  
And hence bacteria and fungi sprang  
Into existence to dissolve the knot  
Of carbohydrates photosynthesis  
Achieves in plants, in living plants.  
Forget the parasitic smuts,  
The rusts, the scabs, the blights, the wilts, the spots,  
The mildews…”

“...What the fuck, Baz?” He’s laughing, again.

“Shhh. I’m not done.” and then I continue:

“‘The mildews and aspergillosis--  
The fungi gone amok,  
Attacking living tissue,  
Another instance, did Nature need another,  
of predatory heartlessness.  
Pure rot  
Is not  
But benign without it, how  
Would the forest digest its fallen timber,  
The woodchuck corpse  
Vanish to leave behind a poem?’”

“... The world, reshuffled, rolls to renewed fullness…”.

“Okay, Baz. So what the hell does that mean? Why are you reading me poetry about rot?”

“I’m reading you poetry about renewal. About how the things that happened before-- the things that wreaked havoc on us-- are done and turning into the next thing.”

He frowns. “Which is what? What’s the next thing?”

To me it’s plain as day, but then he’s not an English major. “Our love. Our happiness. That’s what’s come out of all the rot we had to endure in the years before.”

“Oh my god, you beautiful smart man. Get down here and lie on me. Kiss me.”

(We kiss).

“If you start smoking a pipe next and wearing a red velvet dressing gown, I’m going to combust. You are too sexy for me,” Simon informs me, as our lips pull apart and I look down at him.

********

Simon:

On the walk back, I feel more awake and energized than I’ve felt in weeks. “This was good for us,” I say, firmly. “We need to get outside more. We can’t just keep staying in that apartment all day… nice as it is. Comfy as it is. We need daylight.”

Baz agrees. “I think that’s why I’ve been so down, lately. Playing my violin in the dark during thunderstorms, and whatnot.”

I decide to press my luck by advancing an idea I’ve been thinking about. “Baz, what would you say about the book club coming over for a movie night? We still haven’t talked about the last part of Mockingjay and there are actually two movies to watch.”

“Well,” Baz says, “It’s such a small group and I know they all have been self-isolating, so it’s probably fine. But you’ll have to clear it with Dev and Niall, first.”

“I bet Niall will be pumped about the idea of having other people over,” I remark. But then I add, “Knowing him, though, he’ll use it as an opportunity to flirt with Agatha and make things worse between him and Dev.”

I had told Baz about the conversation with Niall over dishes a few weeks ago. Baz thought it was probably a very big step for Niall to be talking about these feelings with someone else… just putting them into words and saying those words out loud was huge. 

So we had high hopes, the first few days, that those two would finally resolve their issues and take their relationship to the next step.

But as far as we can tell, the conversation never happened. We think Niall chickened out and continues to keep his feelings for Dev to himself.

“Well,” Baz says, “if they’re ever going to figure things out between the two of them, they have to do it on their own. We can’t do the work for them. You gave Niall some good advice and now it’s up to him to take it. And Niall’s issues shouldn’t stand in the way of you having your friends over.”

When we get home we hear Dev and Niall in the kitchen. “Where were you guys?” Niall asks.

“Went for a walk by the river.”

“Sweet. So the outside world is still all in one piece, then?”

“More or less. Say, can I ask you guys something?” I begin, looking at Baz. (He nods).

“Sure,” Dev says. “What is it, Simon?”

“Would it be alright with you if I have my book club over for a movie night? It’s only four people and you already met them all, at the party. Agatha, Keris, Trixie, and Penny.”

“Yes,” Niall blurts out immediately. “Four girls? Yes.”

Dev shoots Niall a look and Niall blushes. “Yeah, okay,” Dev agrees. “That should be fine.”

I’m grinning now. I can’t wait to call Penny and the rest of them to invite them. I practically run upstairs with my phone.

Niall:

I saw that look Dev gave me when I said “Yes, four girls? Yes.”

Add that to my list of screw ups.

I think if anything is ever going to change, I need to do what Simon told me to do and talk to Dev. 

But I’m freaking terrified.

What if he rejects me? What if it makes everything all uncomfortable between us? What if I find out he has a secret boyfriend I don’t know about (even though we’re always together, Dev never leaves the house anymore, and I’ve never heard or seen him with a boyfriend). Anything’s possible.

Dev is in his room folding towels. I walk by and tap on the door. “Knock knock,” I say.

He glances my way. “What’s up? Come to help me fold?”

“I could,” I say, picking up a towel. Dev is folding the towels into squares (can you say “obvious”), while I have a way of folding towels into thirds. I learned that from working at a department store one summer. So any towels I fold will look weird on his pile, and he’ll probably end up refolding them later.

But at least it’s something to do and somewhere to look.

After a moment, I say, “There’s a thing I wanted to talk to you about, Dev.”

Did his face take on a little more color just now? He’s not looking at me. “What?”

“I’m afraid I have to add a complication to our very sweet friend/roommate/Clash of Clans dynamic.”

“I’m listening.”

“Dev, I like you. And not as a friend, roommate, or Clash of Clans brother.”

Now he’s looking at me. “What do you mean?”

I step toward him tentatively, still clutching the towel I was folding (I haven’t forgotten that last time I tried to kiss him, when he rejected me). My heart is pounding in my chest. 

Goddammit. I set the towel down. Time to be brave.

I take his hands in mine. I look at them as I hold them. I look up at him, and then I raise his hands to my lips. I kiss them.

He lets me kiss them. He looks stunned.

“I mean I want to kiss you. I want to be your boyfriend.”

He’s studying my face hard. “If this is a joke, Niall, I swear to God…”.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. I don’t want other people; I want you. If you don’t want me that way, then tell me right now so I can go back to fucking learning how to accept it. But part of me is hoping you sent me out of your room that night because I didn’t approach you properly… respectfully enough. Let you know how serious I am. Dev,” I say, looking dead in his eyes. “I am serious about this. I seriously… like you. Christ, Dev; I think I’m in love with you. If you would let me kiss you, if you would give me a chance, I…”.

And then he’s kissing me.

It feels so right… it feels so good. No one’s ever kissed me like this before. Like I’m hot. Like there’s no one else but me.

I try not to just paw on him, but I can’t keep my hands off him as we kiss. First I’m touching his face… then my hands twine into his hair. Then it’s down his neck and shoulders and up his back. 

I can’t believe he’s letting me kiss him like this… that he’s kissing me back.

I pull away and rest our foreheads together. I have his face cupped in my hands. “Can I, Dev? Can I have you… and this? Will you be my boyfriend?” I kiss him lightly on his lips, his cheeks, his neck.

His head has fallen back… he lets out a deep, appreciative chuckle. “Yes,” he whispers. 

“I think we need to move these towels off the bed. And lock the door. Please, Dev…”

He’s doing that low chuckle thing again… but he’s moving towels. “You get the door,” he says. 

Oh. My. God. This is happening.

I levitate over to the door and turn the bolt.


	10. The Book Club Meets Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Baz learn that Dev and Niall are a couple now. The book club friends come over to watch movies. Simon tells Baz he wants to proceed to the next step in their physical relationship. Warning: Brief mention of forced prostitution in this chapter (as it relates to a plot line in the Hunger Games books, that the book club discusses).

The Book Club, Chapter 10

Baz:

Simon and I are in the kitchen. He’s making breakfast for all of us, because he’s in a great mood… the book club has agreed to come over tonight to watch the last two Hunger Games movies. 

He’s over the moon because it’s been so long since he’s seen his friends.

I haven’t said anything to Simon, but I’m actually a little nervous about the whole thing. After social distancing for so long I’m finding it unexpectedly nerve-wracking to think about being around other people for an extended period of time. And technically we’re not supposed to meet in groups larger than five, so this feels taboo. Certainly it’s against the rules (and I don’t like breaking the rules).

I didn’t realize that getting together with a few friends would be a hang-up for me. I went into this quarantine feeling pretty calm about everything… I mean, I planned to follow all the precautions they were advising, but I didn’t actually feel an existential dread about running into other people. It didn’t feel like I, personally, was in any imminent danger.

And I still don’t feel like the risk is that high for me… at least not rationally. I’m strong and healthy… yes, I smoke, but very lightly. I’ve gone as long as two weeks without having a cigarette. And I’m young, so there can’t have been time for much lung damage… right?

(Now that I think about it, I’m quitting).

Anyway, apparently isolation has kicked in this weird “stay away from me” reflex that was dormant before. (Except in regards to Simon. He’s allowed to glom onto me, at will).

I don’t want to impose this distaste for other people’s nearness onto Simon. His friends mean so much to him; he’s a lot more of a people person than I am. And I love his big heart and openness to other people. As long as we take reasonable precautions to keep things safe, I need to let him have a visit with friends. And I feel comfortable that this particular group of people has been self-isolating. Bunce has been at home with her very protective mother, Agatha’s been watched over by her doctor father, and Trixie and Keris are a little self-isolating island nation onto themselves, even in normal times. 

This is not a risky group.

And we’re taking precautions. We’ve agreed to spread out the furniture upstairs in my loft so we can maintain six feet of separation. We’ll open the windows and have the ceiling fan on. Also part of the invite was “no hugs or kisses” (with an exception made for couples, naturally).

I’m thinking it’s actually probably good that we’re breaking the isolation in this slight way before too many months go by. I’d probably be in full committed hermit mode if left unvisited another month.

I’m going to stop being a worrier and enjoy the company of these other people (I’ll try to pretend that a shudder did not just go through me at the thought). These are friends that Simon wants to have over.

He’s bending over to check the oven right now. His pants are stretched tight across his butt and thighs, and he looks so cute wearing the “Kiss the Cook” apron that I gave him when he first moved in. He has our bacon warming in the oven (two full trays of it). 

“Why don’t you go ahead and call Dev and Niall,” he says, decisively. “I’m ready to do the pancakes, and those will go fast. The pan’s nice and hot.”

I obediently head down the hall toward their rooms. (I hope Simon realizes they may not want to get up for this- it’s only nine in the morning.)

I get to Niall’s door first. I tap on it gently. “Niall,” I call. He doesn’t answer, so I tap a little louder. “Niall, Simon made a big breakfast. You want some?” Still no reply.

I decide to give up. He’s probably still sound asleep. (If he’s hungry he can just microwave a plate later to eat).

I continue down the hall to Dev’s. Again I tap. “Dev? You want some of the disgustingly large breakfast Simon made?”

This time I DO hear something. The creaking of the mattress and a series of hushed whispers and giggles. 

What in the world-?

I hear Dev clear his throat and call out, “Yeah, we’ll be out shortly.”

More giggles.

Huh.

I walk back to the kitchen, where Simon’s flipping the first batch of pancakes. “Didn’t they want to wake up?” he asks.

“Actually... I think they are coming. ...but we should probably go ahead and start eating. Not wait for them.”

“Why do you say that?”

I feel like a speculative gossip. “Because they were both in Dev’s room. In his bed, I think. It may take some time for them to come join us.”

“Well, well, well.”

“If that’s true I can’t believe it finally happened,” I marvel, chuckling and shaking my head.

“Mmm. It was bound to, sooner or later.”

“Should be interesting to see how things change around here. Will there be more drama or less drama?”

“To be determined,” Simon says dramatically, with a good-humored flourish of his eyebrows, as he carries the butter and syrup over to the table.

We’ve just about finished eating when Dev and Niall saunter into the room. They’re wearing trackies and t-shirts but their hair is messy and they’re still barefoot. 

I’m not used to seeing Dev with messy hair. Less than 24 hours with Niall and his standards are already starting to slip.

“What do we have here?” Niall sniffs, opening up the pan lid.

“Scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes.” Simon informs him.

“Mmm. Nice.”

They get themselves a couple of plates and load up on food. I notice Niall’s hands linger on Dev’s waist as he passes behind him for a glass. 

Simon and I are more or less done eating, but there’s no hurry getting up, right? Not when there’s something so interesting going on (this is quarantine. We have to take what entertainment we get).

They come over to the table and sit down across from us. “So,” Niall says, abruptly, taking Dev’s hand and raising it to his lips. “Devereaux here has consented to be my boyfriend.”

I look up at Dev, who is blushing and allowing his hand to be kissed as he picks at his eggs. He steals a glance over at me. I smile reassuringly and say, “That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”

“Finally,” declares Simon. “It’s about time. I thought you were a couple the first time I met you. You just always seemed like you belonged together.”

“Really? Well thank you, both. I couldn’t be happier, and I am going to do my best not to screw this good thing up,” Niall states fervently to Dev, like it’s a marriage vow. Dev rolls his eyes and smiles, as Niall relinquishes his hand and turns his attention to the bacon. 

“So do you have anything to add, Dev?” I prod gently.

“Not really… just. I’m happy, too.” he looks over at Niall and smiles again (as Niall chews and beams back, approvingly). “And we’ll try not to be too obnoxious about it.”

“Definitely don’t be opening any doors around here without knocking first,” Niall affirms.

“Oh lord, no,” says Simon. “Same goes for us upstairs. That should be the new house rule.”

Simon pauses before asking, “Is this out in the open, then? I mean, when book club comes over tonight, can we tell them? Do you want to tell them yourself or just not even refer to it?”

Niall and Dev look at each other. Niall shrugs. “I don’t care who knows… do you, Dev? We should probably just go ahead and put it out there, so Aggie doesn’t embarrass herself by throwing herself at me, or something.” (Dev snorts).

“Fine,” Simon laughs. “We’ll warn everyone as they come through the door; how’s that?”

*******************

Simon:

Well, now that Dev and Niall are a couple, movie night should be less traumatic. Niall’s normal course of action would be to flirt with the girls while Dev watches on, wearily. Presumably that will not be happening tonight. 

First to arrive is Penny. Penny. She’s wearing horn-rimmed glasses and has streaks of purple in her curly hair. I can tell she wants to give me a great big hug, but we keep our distance. “Penny!” I say, with a hitch in my voice. It’s been two months since I’ve seen her face to face.

“Simon,” she says back, warmly. “I’m so glad you asked us over. How have you been? How are online classes going for you?”

“Terrible,” I state. “I hate online classes. Guess I didn’t realize what a people person I am until all the people got taken away. It’s just not the same. I can’t learn this way.”

“I know; it’s harder. But at least you get to do quarantine in a great place,” she says, looking around (Baz’s place is pretty nice). “And with great company, right?” she adds, looking at Baz, who’s come up behind me.

I pull Baz forward by wrapping an arm around his waist. He looks sensational tonight, wearing a dark red floral shirt and black jeans. (I’m so proud of him). “Baz is great, Penny. Might as well tell you we’re officially in love.”

“Really, Si? Baz? Oh, that’s so great for you, both. I may as well take credit for the whole works, right now… I’m the one who brought Baz to book club, right?”

“Yes you did, Penny. And I can’t ever thank you enough for that,” I say, emphatically.

Baz looks pleased and allows, “I’ve been invited to worse clubs.”

We lead Penny upstairs and show her how we have it set up for the movie. “There’s actually more room to spread out, up here. Baz has the entire upstairs, whereas the rest of the apartment is only half of the house. The rest of the first floor belongs to other renters.”

“You get your own chair, Penny,” Baz says. “You and Agatha, both. We were figuring the couples could sit on the couch and futon.”

“What about Dev and Niall? Aren’t they watching with us?”

“Well, that’s the thing, Penny,” I say excitedly. “They’re a couple now, too. They just announced that this morning.”

“Really? Well, wow. I guess I should have seen that one coming. Okay.”

The doorbell rings again. I run downstairs and open the door. 

“Aggie!”

She looks so nice. Smaller than I remember, maybe. She’s wearing her movie-watching clothes, all comfy and stretchy. Her blonde hair’s up in a top knot.

“Simon, how are you? It’s so good to see you!”

“Yes; come in! Wish I could give you a hug, but we said we weren’t going to do that, right?”

“Yes, that’s the plan. But know that I am hugging you, inwardly, Simon.” She looks around. “Am I the only one here so far?”

“No, Penny and Baz are upstairs. Dev and Niall will be watching the movies, too, but I think they’re still in their room.”

“Do they share a room here?” she asks, surprised.

“They do now.” I’m about to warn her that they’re dating now, but I get interrupted because the doorbell rings again. This time it’s Trixie and Keris.

“Guys!” Trixie says when she sees me and Aggie open the door. “So excited to see you both! But where’s Baz?”

“Oh, he’s upstairs,” I explain.

“Cool, cool. Had to ask. When you opened the door with Agatha just now, it kind of looked like you were a couple again. Funny, huh? I mean I thought maybe you two had gotten back together.”

We all laugh at that, but is it my imagination or does Aggie look a little put out by the suggestion? Is it annoying to her that we still seem like a possible couple to some of our friends? (After spending a few hours with me and Baz as we are now, no one will think that. Baz and I are definitely a couple, and in a way that Aggie and I never were).

We all head upstairs. Dev and Niall aren’t coming up till we’re ready to watch the movie… they aren’t particularly interested in listening to the book discussion portion of the evening.

Baz and I sit side by side on the couch… I’m actually kind of leaning into him as I sit with one leg tucked under myself on the couch, clipboard in hand. “Do any of you still remember the story line, even? It’s been awhile.”

“I have to admit it’s not as fresh on my mind as a book usually is when we discuss it,” Penny says.

“Same here,” Agatha adds. “But if you ask questions that’ll help jog our memories.”

“Right. Well, one big development you’ll remember is they’re living in District 13, now. And Katniss doesn’t really like it there, does she? What is it that she doesn’t like about District 13?”

“Well,” Trixie says. “It’s run by President Coin, for one. And she’s a very strict and unforgiving leader.”

“She’s horrible. Look what happens to Katniss’s prep team when they’re taken to District 13,” Keris adds. “That part broke my heart! They were treated horribly… abused and not allowed to keep any of the little personal decorations that made them feel and look special. Katniss finds out and is disgusted by their treatment.”

“Yeah. I mean, obviously they couldn’t keep all their little vanities in a place like District 13, but they could have been offered some dignity and compassion. That’s why I think the name ‘Coin’ is deliberate, on the author’s part,” Penny says. “President Coin is the other side of the coin-- the same evil coin-- that President Snow belongs to. Both are hard and pitiless.”

“How does Coin feel about Katniss?” I ask.

“She hates her,” Agatha says. “But she’s careful with her, at first. She tries to win her over, so she can use her for her own ends. She sees the value in controlling Katniss.”

“Let’s talk about how Katniss’s view of particular people changes in the last book,” I say. “And let’s start with Peeta. When Katniss and Peeta first meet up in District 13, what is that like?”

“He’s all different,” Agatha says. “He doesn’t love her anymore… he hates her. He’s been brainwashed against her.”

“His mind has been tampered with,” Penny adds. 

“So Katniss has to reorient herself,” Agatha continues. “She was used to a world where Peeta loved her. Now that’s gone and it may very well never come back. So she has to face the new reality and somehow go on from there.”

“Oh-!” says Keris. “That part’s hard. We get used to and expect the two of them to be together, and now she has to keep her guard up around him, because in his mind they’re not together. He might kill her, or something!”

“But, of course, deep down inside, Peeta still loves her,” I say. “He just doesn’t fully remember it, yet.” I think to myself: but that’s Peeta… not me. I care about Aggie as a friend, but I’m gay. A reunion between her and I is never going to happen. Aggie’s on her own, now, in that sense. More alone than even Katniss.

“What do you think of the character of Finnick?” Keris asks, changing the subject, probably picking up on the tension. “I really liked him.”

“Yeah, his character turns out to be quite different from how he seems in the beginning of the story. In the first book, when Katniss meets him, he seems so shallow… like this slutty partier who just went from person to person, in the capitol,” Penny says. “But then you find out that he HAD to do all that, because he was being blackmailed. And he did what he did for love.”

“He was basically made to be a prostitute, for both men and women. Can you imagine how awful that would be? To be… handled and passed around by people you’re not even attracted to?” I remark.

“Jeez, louise, what kind of discussions go on in this book club-?” Niall says in a “shocked” voice as he and Dev enter the room. “And if they’re about sex, why was I never invited?”

“Do you read, Niall? You need to read to be in BOOK CLUB.” Baz says.

“Yes,” Agatha says, jokingly. “But since we are speaking of ‘slutty partiers’, you may join us now. You might have relevant insights to share. You know. Related to slutty partying.”

“Hey now,” Niall says quickly, grinning at the challenge but also glancing at Dev. “You must be referring to me in days past. The current me is firmly committed to my lovely boyfriend, Devereaux Grimm.”

“Oh!” Agatha says, blushing. “Sorry for… joking in that way about him, Dev… I hadn’t heard about the two of you.”

“Why are you apologizing to him for making a remark about me?” Niall asks, fake-sputtering. But he’s not really angry… he understands. We all do, as Niall WAS a free spirit who avoided commitment.

Distraction comes by way of the doorbell, yet again. The pizza I ordered is here. We open the boxes so everyone can grab some, and then we start the first movie.

Agatha:

This time I’m sitting by myself in one of Baz’s easy chairs. I’ve been given a freshly washed Simon quilt to drape over my lap (It’s nice. I think Ebb made him this one), but Simon himself is across the room sharing a blanket with Baz.

We don’t sit by each other during movies, anymore.

I try not to stare, but I can’t help but watch them, a little. They look so in love. 

It’s sweet but it’s also kind of jarring. For me, Simon was that cute (but not-quite-cute-enough) guy that I dated for two years! For two years, I could count on him. We’d break up (a couple of times it was so I could date someone else), but always in the end there he was, waiting, and he’d take me back. He was reliable to the point of being boring in his predictability. 

I definitely took him for granted.

He liked us to have formal dates and do all these official little milestone things, like celebrate each month we were together. The first couple times it was cute, but after that I was more annoyed by all the little “anniversaries” than anything. It felt like he was trying to force our relationship to be more significant and real than it really was. At the time I thought it was because he was an unusually serious guy, really into me. 

In retrospect, I think he was just trying to live up to his own idea of what it means to be a great boyfriend.

With Baz, Simon doesn’t have to try so hard. He’s playful and he laughs more. He’s actually much more appealing.

I can tell they’ve been intimate. 

It’s in the way they look at each other, the way they touch, the way they seem to gravitate around each other when they’re in the same room. 

Simon definitely didn’t look at me like that. 

But I kept him at arm’s length.

If I were honest with myself (which I guess I am being, right now), I would admit that part of me feels cheated by what happened. I don’t blame Simon for it… it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know he was gay. But I spent two years of my life dating him when I could have met someone else better suited for me.

That’s on me. I knew there was something not quite right about our relationship. I settled when I should have been trying harder and expecting more.

In theory, I could set all that to right now, but it isn’t exactly easy to date in quarantine. My life (along with lots of other people’s lives) is basically put on hold till everything clears over.

And I have a lot of figuring out to do! I haven’t figured out my sexuality yet. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m about as interested in girls as I am in guys, but my interest level in both doesn’t seem to be as high as other people’s. Everyone else gets so excited about their partners or potential partners and I just don’t. When I was dating Simon, other people would look interesting to me for a while, but once Simon and I broke up and I was “allowed” to date these other people, they became less interesting to me. 

Hell if I know. And hell if I’m going to figure any of that out while living with my dad during a quarantine. At least not by going on actual dates. 

I guess all I can do is keep being honest with myself and work on understanding my own feelings. Maybe by the time social isolation is over I’ll have a better idea of what I’m looking for.

Simon:

We’re half-way through the first movie and already I’m wishing I was back to having Baz to myself. For one thing, I’m not used to sitting next to him in the dark, under a blanket, and not being able to fool around a little. And it’s not like we have the couch to ourselves — Dev and Niall are on the other end (it’s a long couch).

I personally think they’re getting up to something, over there, but I’m sure as hell not going to look. I’m detecting some unnecessary movement under their blanket. Also Baz keeps casting them dirty looks. 

I sneak a glance their way. By the light of the TV I can see Dev’s face looking quite strained. Niall looks sly. (I suspect they are contributing to the history of the illicit snuggle couch).

Baz:

Remind me never to share a couch with Niall and Dev again. I don’t even want to speculate on why Dev’s face is turning purple and the couch is squeaking.

Meanwhile Keris and Trixie, who are also sharing a blanket, seem as well-behaved and quiet as ever. (Or else they’re just way sneakier).

Simon:

I have trouble staying awake for the last movie. I’ve seen it before so I know what’s coming, but also Baz is so warm and comfy. I’m snuggled up onto his chest and I’m ready for everyone to go home so I can have him all to myself.

We talk a few minutes after the second movie, when the lights are back on. Everyone looks pretty sleepy. Dev and Niall look pretty sheepish (they were up to something for awhile there).

We see everyone off. Dev and Niall don’t get up to leave till everyone else has left. When they go they carry their blanket ahead of them. It’s pretty obvious they want to conceal the front of their trackies, but Baz and I don’t even bother to comment. Cripes.

Baz: 

We decide we’ll put the furniture back and clean up tomorrow. We decide to head right for bed.

Simon and I take a nice relaxing shower first. The warm water and Simon’s body next to mine wakes me up enough to realize I want him tonight. (Hopefully he’s not too tired). He slides his hands up and down my waist.

I don’t think he’ll be too tired.

Once we’re in bed, Simon asks, “Do you think Dev and Niall have had anal sex?”

“I doubt it,” I answer. “Some gay couples never have anal intercourse. It’s up to them how they want to define their physical intimacy.”

“So you don’t think it’s weird that we haven’t done it yet?” Simon asks.

“No, not at all. It’s only weird if you think it’s weird.”

Simon looks like I’ve just told him something amazing. (Maybe I’ve never come out and said this explicitly before?)

“I think I want to try it, Baz. Try it and see how it goes.”

“Okay, Simon. Then we should absolutely try it.”

“Tonight. Right now.”

“Are you… really? Now?”

He’s looking up at me and walking his fingers up my arm. “Do you think that could be arranged?”

I swallow. But then roll myself over the top of him and look down, smiling. “Oh yes,” I say in a low voice. “That can certainly be arranged.”


	11. First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is “smut” from beginning to end. Well, not quite. It’s lovemaking. Simon’s first experience with anal sex (spoiler: it goes well). 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> PS: notice the plan for 12 chapters has changed and now I have it “question mark”. Sorry if that’s annoying and reveals me as the bad planner that I am 😂. But I see this saga continuing and I haven’t gone into detail with Dev and Niall yet, and wouldn’t that be just RUDE to leave them high and dry?
> 
> Plus maybe Aggie needs a lover, at some point. There are ways of arranging such things...

The Book Club, Chapter 11

Baz:

We’ve talked about it, but Simon’s desire to try anal sex tonight has caught me by surprise.

I look down at him. He’s lovely, as always. His dark blonde curls are longer in the front (especially now that haircuts aren’t readily available), so I spend a lot of time pushing them back to see his blue eyes better. I do that now, brushing his hair aside with my fingers and tucking a wayward lock behind his ear.

His cheeks are mottled with color… he’s excited and a little embarrassed, I think. His full, flushed lips are parted but he’s biting the inside of one of his cheeks. He’s frowning slightly, his face determined. I smile reassuringly into his eyes as I cup a hand along his cheek.

Simon the brave.

His eyes are a whole thing onto themselves. As we look into each other’s eyes, I’m struck by how many thoughts and feelings can be expressed through the simplicity of a look. I see his fear and uncertainty… his vulnerability. 

But I also see his desire and love and trust.

He’s so precious. I dip my head down slowly and lay my lips down onto his for a tender kiss.

He kisses me back and winds his arms around my neck, breaking our lips apart just long enough to whisper, “I love you, Baz.” Then we reconnect and fall back to kissing.

His kisses become more (cautiously) passionate toward me. He’s not backing down, and I shiver… because he’s everything to me. He’s my hope and my future and my whole world right now… the only one I touch anymore. My companion and my partner and my lover. He kisses my jaw and neck and I close my eyes so I can concentrate on the sensation. “Mmm,” I whisper back. “I love you, too, Simon.”

My eyes stay closed and I immerse myself in the experience of kissing him. I’ve fallen back to his lips again, and now I’m moving my head slightly back and forth through the kiss. His chin rises up to answer me and responds to every pressure of my lips.

His hands, which started out at my waist, slide firmly onto my ass. It’s possessive and familiar and, given what we’re about to do, highly erotic. I groan and involuntarily rut down at him.

We both gasp.The contact between us, even through our boxers, is excruciatingly good. We’re hard; we’re ready to go farther.

But I can’t get carried away. I have to do this right.

Pulling back to look at him again, I say breathlessly, “I’m going to get a couple of things first. Wait right here.” He nods and sits up on his elbows slightly, palming himself, as I get up off him and walk over to the bathroom for a couple of towels. I pull up a cushion and make sure the lube’s handy.

Simon:

Baz is getting THE SEX STUFF.

(Christ. We’re actually going to do this).

I’m not going to lie… I’m a little scared. Turned on, but scared. I’ve enjoyed the fingers, but this is different, and despite the reassurance Baz has given, it seems like it’s going to hurt. 

But it’s Baz, and he’ll listen to me. If I want him to stop, he’ll stop. And if I decide I can’t go through with it, it’ll be okay. He said himself that some gay couples never get into this type of sex and are perfectly content with other kinds of intimacy. So I have nothing to worry over.

Baz hasn’t put pressure on me for this… he loves me either way.

There’s also always the possibility that when we do this I can just be the one who enters him. I’m pretty sure I can do that part, no problem. In fact I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about that, lately. And the idea of it is wildly exciting to me. It's the thought of being on the receiving end that makes me feel nervous, more vulnerable, I guess. I still want to try it, though, because the thought of having Baz inside me is incredibly arousing to me, despite the nerves. If it was with anyone other than Baz, I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable trying it. But I trust Baz completely.

He made sure that we talked ahead of time about whether or not to use protection. He’s been careful to use condoms and have himself tested regularly, including after his last relationship and shortly before taking up with me (and the start of this quarantine). He even made a point of showing me the test results and having me see a doctor myself. He’s disease-free and so am I. Also we are monogamous and plan to stay that way.

Not that I thought I wouldn't be disease-free — I haven’t been with anyone, sexually, until this relationship with him. Still I really appreciate how seriously he takes things. It makes me feel safe and cared for. He’s the kind of person who never shies away from important topics, but he does it in such a way that he makes me feel good. 

I think it's the stability of a caring heart I've been missing out on, before Baz. He’s here and he tries for me. This is nothing I'm used to... 

We’re not going to hurt each other. I can relax.

Baz:

I place everything we’ll need on a chair next to the bed. Now for “the” conversation.

“So are you doing me or am I doing you?” (It sounds so rudely blunt. I hate how that ended up sounding, dammit).

Simon’s mouth drops open a little but he answers. “You do me.”

I breathe out and decide to push forward through the awkwardness. “And we’re talking not just fingers? You want me to actually use my…?” I clear my throat and glance down, meaningfully.

He raises his eyebrows. “Say it, Baz.”

“Penis,” I admit, sheepishly.

He looks down and shakes his head, but he has a small smile. (I hope I haven’t sullied him with my dirty penis talk). 

“Aww,” Simon says, with a perfectly serious face, “Here I hoped you were going to slice into me with your magnificent cock.”

Now it’s my turn to sit with mouth agape. Then Simon’s face breaks into a smile, and we fall onto the bed, laughing. 

(It was a ridiculous conversation to have and I’m going to forget it as soon as possible, but it did break the ice).

“Seriously,” I say. “If anything happens tonight that’s uncomfortable for you, say something. Tell me and I’ll stop. And if you want me to try something different to make this better for you, tell me that, too. You can tell me anything… don’t keep it to yourself.”

“Okay.”

We lay in bed, looking at each other.

“So what do we do first?” Simon asks me, a bit unsure. I'm nervous too but I need to stay calm for the both of us.

“First we go back to what we were doing,” I take his hand in mine then and leave a few kisses along his wrist. “And finding the right mood.”

Simon sighs in contentment, relaxing into me. I trail slow kisses across his arm until I reach his collarbone and keep going up. His breath is hitching by the time my lips reach his and Simon moans into my mouth. 

His hands reach for me and pull me closer, deepening the kiss. 

I think we both needed this to get our nerves down, to remember what this all is about — us and what we wish to share together. 

Our kiss is getting heavier and sloppier. My hands end up in his hair, tugging gently.

I can feel him hard against me. When he starts sucking on my lower lip just as he presses his hard cock into me, an honest to goodness groan escapes my mouth. 

Being with him makes me lose all semblance of control. And for once I don't want any. Not with him. I don't have the need to guard myself, not anymore.

I told Simon that every person I've ever had sex with left me eventually. That might very well be one of the reasons for all the reservations I've been putting on myself — not to get too attached, not to seem too eager. And this time it’s tenfold scarier because I’m in love with him.

But it's different this time because it's right. It feels right in my bones. He's the one, so, despite all my insecurities, I let him see me eager for him.

Simon told me he loved me and he also shows it every day, in all the little things. 

I feel secure with him.

I've had every physical intimacy there is yet I've never had this — the trust… This kind of trust...

In a way, it's all just as new to me as it is to him…

Eventually I detach myself from his hair and start stroking his body with my hand. I start by running a hand down his shoulder and muscled arm, then up and across his chest. I rest my hand on the curve of his waist and then start rubbing his stomach.

He loves being touched, and I love how responsive and unrestrained he is. He leans back and moans under my wandering hand, arching up slightly. I roll toward him and up a little, slotting a knee between his legs and leaning forward to run my lips and tongue along his neck and clavicles, brushing him there with my hand, as well, before letting my lips completely take over. While mouthing his neck, sucking and perhaps leaving a light mark here and there, I let my hand drop down to his thighs. I start with stroking his outer thighs and then move inward. His legs fall open and I feel him tremble for me.

Simon:

Baz is making me feel so good, but I want him to feel good, too. I can’t really see or think properly when he has his lips working on my neck like that, and when he touches inside my legs I just about melt into jello. But I manage to reach up and run my fingers down his chest and slide over his nipples. Then I return to them and flick my thumbs back and forth, lightly. He shudders and lets me scoot down a little further on the mattress. I pull him closer over the top of me so I can lick him there.

I’m glad he likes this, too, and is sensitive in his nipples, because I really like licking him. I like teasing his nipples hard. It feels decadent and debauched, like something we shouldn’t be doing. And the more we get into this sexual relationship, the more I feel comfortable experimenting and exploring with him. (He’s never made me feel bad for trying something). 

I like licking him everywhere. I haven’t found a part of his body that isn’t delicious (except that time I accidentally licked his deodorant), but there are several corners of his body I’ve never visited before… places I’ve been shy to acknowledge. But not tonight. My tongue is making new friends tonight.

As he reaches the inside of my thighs, my cock aches for him. I open my legs and thrust up toward him a little, just an inch or two. I’m hoping he’ll get the hint and wrap his fingers around me. Baz notices everything, so of course he does. He holds onto me firmly and gives me a squeeze and a tug. But he’s also moving his whole body lower.

There’s a little pre-come on the tip of my cock. He uses it to lubricate his hand as he rubs down and up the length of me a few times. Then he dips his head down and takes me whole into his mouth (he’s so good at giving head… I immediately moan loudly). He bobs his head up and down a few times, slowly, then he pops his mouth off me and runs his tongue down to my sack. He licks it and mouths it while tugging skillfully on my cock.

Then he slides his tongue down past my sack to the skin just between (I pray he won’t stop). And he doesn’t stop. His tongue lingers in that in-between area until he finally moves on… to my rim.

I flinch a little, even though I knew (hoped?) that lick was coming, because we haven’t done that yet… not with a mouth. (Still I've taken a very thorough shower in anticipation of this.)

“This okay?” he asks, looking up at me.

“Yes, it’s… just kind of embarrassing, that’s all. But it feels good. Keep doing it... if you want to, that is.”

“I definitely want to.” He’s still waiting, though, for some little sign from me that this is really alright.

“Please, Baz,” I plead softly. At that he grabs the cushion he left next to the bed and sets it under me, I suppose so I’m more easily accessible. Then he spreads my butt cheeks farther apart and buries his face in my hole.

I’ve never felt anything like it… it’s heavenly. His tongue rides around my rim until he enters and probes me with it. Part of me can’t believe he likes doing it and remains self-conscious, but the other part of me wants me to clamp his head between my legs and keep him there forever (lord, this is good). I decide that I’ll do it back to him, first chance I get. 

I want to give him all the good feelings he gives me. I want to take him apart with desire. I want to erase the memory of every other lover he’s had before me from his mind.

Baz:

I’m excited to finally be at this point with Simon, and that he’s taken to our lovemaking with such unbridled passion. He has his arm thrown across his face, like he needs to hide the degree of his arousal from me… his eyes are closed and his lips are parted. He keeps licking them (every time I stop to take a breath I look up at him. His huffing and his head tossing are the most erotic things I’ve ever seen).

Baz,” he says, roughly. “Can I… you said I could ask you to do things, right?”

I pull my tongue out of his ass and look up. His eyes are open now, the pupils blown wide. “Yes, yes. Ask anything. Tell me what you want.”

He takes a deep breath. “Can we do like a 69-type thing with this? So I can lick you at the same time?”

I’m amazed he’s ready to give something like that a go, but of course I’ll run with it. It’s an incredible suggestion, and it means he really does like what we’re doing. So I don’t bother answering with words. I just start arranging myself to oblige. (I do it carefully, though, so it hopefully looks at least somewhat sexy). I end up with my legs spread over the top of him, facing the opposite way, my ass in his face. He puts his hands on my ass and starts rubbing up and down. 

I lean forward and resume with my mouth on his very hard cock. He moans and ruts his hips up and down repeatedly, just the faintest little bit. Not enough to gag me but just enough to let me know the tempo he wants.

I feel his grip on my ass tighten as he spreads my cheeks apart. I lower slightly and he reaches up. His tongue takes a few tentative licks before he murmurs “hmmm” and buries his face in me. 

Oh happy day.

He starts repeating the type of licks and tongue thrusts I was doing just a moment earlier (he is a very fast learner). I reward him by moaning loudly and taking his cock as far down my throat as I can, over and over again. Then I return to his ass and give him the same (it’s a bit of a stretch, though, because our torsos aren’t quite the same length).

We do that for a while until I realize how ready we are for intercourse and get impatient (I haven’t done this in so long, and I want Simon badly. Also I want to turn so I can see his eyes again). I move so as to gently detach myself from him on both ends, saying “I want you now, Simon. Can we-?” I face him again and look into his eyes. He kisses me in response. “Yes,” he says, without hesitation.

I find the bottle of lube without even having to look, but my hand is shaking. (It’s all so exciting, and I don’t want to disappoint him in any way. But he’s looking at me lovingly, with trust and anticipation). I pour some into my hand, rubbing it well over and around my fingers.

I kiss his lips again. “Are you ready for my finger?”

“Yes. Your tongue is great but it’s not quite long enough.”

I chuckle. “Good point,” I say, as I tease around the rim a little. I plunge my finger in slowly. Simon purrs.

“I’m so excited for this, Baz. I love you. You make me feel so good.”

I lean forward and kiss him as I start moving my finger back and forth.

Simon:

We’ve been practicing with two fingers for a while now, and that combined with what we’ve just been doing has me very relaxed. The first finger goes in smoothly. 

When he’s sure I’m used to it, he starts slowly sliding it in and out. He’s kissing me the whole time.

I huff and gasp a little. It feels good. 

He stops and takes his finger out just long enough to put more lube on. Then he comes back to my side and enters me gently with two fingers.

That’s tighter, but I handle it easily. We’ve done this before, and I know if I wait long enough he’ll reward me by doing that thing where he crooks his fingers… yes. He’s doing it. And now he’s moving in and out, bumping my prostate rhythmically. 

“Fuck,” I say, gasping, rolling my head. (He changes position just enough to reach his other hand up to my face and run his fingers over my jaw and lips. I catch his wrist with my hand and start sucking on one of his fingers).

Shit, this is hot.

Now he’s kneeling alongside me. He bends over and kisses my mouth that still has one of his fingers in it. Then he slowly plunges three well-lubricated fingers down my hole. Staying relaxed is a bit of a challenge. He moves very slowly, and only goes part-way in. “Okay, Simon?” he whispers.

“Yes,” I say in a tiny voice. He doesn’t say anything more but he pulls out. (I think he realizes I’m not quite comfortable).

He returns to licking my rim and plying me open with his tongue (must be edible lube). He lubricates my cock and pumps me regularly there at the same time. I’m running my fingers through his hair, gasping and moaning in no time. 

He does that until I come apart with the pleasure. Then he returns to fingering me. I’m able to relax into it now; I feel full but it’s not uncomfortable. I’m tight but he’s able to crook his fingers and hit the good spot again with three fingers. It feels amazing (But I want him to go faster).

And then he’s out and centering my hips on the cushion. He’s lubing up his cock and he’s looking down at me, tenderly.

“Ready, love?” He asks. I nod. “Yes.” Slowly and carefully he lines himself up with me. He rests so the tip of his cock is just at my entrance. Then he leans down to kiss me. As my mouth opens to his tongue, he slides the tip of his cock inside me, maybe an inch. It goes in easily. “Can I go further?” Baz asks. “Yes,” I whisper. He pushes in further and I’m excited for more because I know I’m ready. He backs out but continues kissing me. “Go on,” he murmurs softly. “Touch yourself.”

I reach down between my legs and grasp myself. I start rubbing my hand up and down (I’m so hard). As I start concentrating on my cock, Baz returns with his cock to my rim. He slides in a bit further this time, and it’s still okay. He repeatedly backs out and slides in slowly, each time a little bit further. 

By the time he sinks all the way in, I’m so ready for it (I can’t believe his whole cock is inside my body). I feel full but connected with him. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close. I dot kisses along his face and neck and do what I can to reassure him that not only am I fine… I’m enjoying this.

His breathing picks up, but I know he’s still holding back, for my sake. He doesn’t want to hurt me… I have to let him know he doesn’t need to be that careful.

This isn’t pain… far from it. He’s at the right angle and is hitting my prostate just so. And it’s such a turn on to be this close to him and have this connection. To know that the thing that’s making me feel so good is making him sweat and moan and strain because it’s so good for him, too. 

His long hair is tucked behind an ear on one side. His eyes are half-closed and he’s looking so lovingly at me as he moves carefully in and out. He’s watching to see if I’m okay, and he’d stop at the first hint this wasn’t what I wanted.

But it’s time to stop holding back.

“Baz,” I say, and watch as his eyes come into focus on me. “Go as fast as you want. Pound me. It feels really good.”

His eyes open wider. “It does?”

I smile and nod, but now I throw my arm back over my face because I’m probably blushing (again). “Just pound me, Baz.”

Baz:

He says “pound him”, but I’m not actually going to do that. I do not want to hurt him.

I do, however, go faster and deeper. 

I love this position, facing him. I need to kiss him and watch his face as I work over the top of him. I want to notice if something hurts or if something feels really good. I move so that my hands push up against the bed for balance, with most of my weight on my knees. I thrust forward again and again.

I change the pace a little by leaning back and placing one hand on his waist, the other on his cock. I start to stroke him with my clenched hand as I move my own cock in and out. I don’t think I want to string this first time out too long or he might be sore. But I want him to come too. Maybe if I work his cock in time with me we can come at the same time.

His hands are smoothing up and down my thighs. After a while he interrupts my hand and says “Let me,” taking over the working of his own cock (he must have noticed my pacing was a little bit off). I’m very close to coming and it’s hard to concentrate. 

I go back to propping myself up on the mattress, my hands on either side of him. “Oh, Simon,” I say. “I… I’m so close.”

“Me too, baby,” he says, turning his head to kiss my nearby arm. “I’ll be ready when you are.”

I groan and fall forward, tucking my face into his neck so I can smell him and be as close to him as possible. I load all my weight onto one arm and use the other arm to scoop him up and hold him in place. Then I let my hips shift into overdrive and start thrusting into him fast. 

He gasps and clutches at me. It’s exquisite. He’s saying, “fuck, fuck.” I glance down at his face to make sure it’s not pain (it’s not pain).

He’s so gorgeous and I love him so much. His warm wet tightness envelopes me like I belong there, like I’m made for him and he for me. 

My pleasure is climbing and crystallizing; I reach the point of no return, when I know I couldn’t stop my orgasm if I tried. I let my clenched eyes go black and see pinpricks of light as the wave of pleasure hits me and I ejaculate into him. I’m conscious of his hand moving furiously beneath my stomach as he joins me in release, moments after, with a loud cry. I look down to see his come shoot out onto his stomach and chest. As my body finishes quivering, I run a lazy, rapturous finger through it. 

He sighs happily and rubs my head.

I don’t withdraw immediately. I lean down to kiss him. I kiss his lips and then his face, nuzzling back to his ear and hairline. He nuzzles me back (it still feels like we are one body). Only then do I withdraw and land on top of him in messy exhaustion.

“Better get the towels, Baz,” he says softly.

I laugh lightly. “Oh yeah. Towels,” I answer, my mind still foggy and dazed. I grab one for him and one for myself. We wipe off as best we can (we’re both going to want showers, but first I need to cuddle him).

“Come here,” I say, and he folds right into me, laying his head on my chest. I lift his chin up gently so I can kiss him again. “Mmm,” he says. “I love you.”

“I love you, Simon.” And then, after a pause, I ask (even though I think I know what his answer will be), “So is that something you think we’ll be trying again someday?”

“I think that’s something we’ll be doing regularly.”

I feel like squealing, but I don’t. I just give him a little squeeze and kiss him again.

“Maybe we’ll try it the other way around tomorrow night? I think I’m done for tonight. That took it all out of me!” he says, chuckling softly.

“Whatever you want,” I answer. But then I slide out from under him so I can sit up slightly and look him in the eye. 

“Simon,” I say. “I would do anything for you. Anything. I can’t even tell you how much I love you. You’re everything to me.”

“Baz,” he says, looking into my eyes. “That’s how I feel about you. I’m so happy with you. Promise you’ll love me forever.”

“Forever,” I answer firmly, as if it’s a vow. Then I kiss him on the nose, forehead, and cheek as he smiles and pulls me back so he can continue laying on my chest.


	12. Night Under the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon helps Baz clean the roof of their apartment off. They go to a home and garden store and Simon gets to indulge his inner interior decorator. With a little help from Dev and Niall, they make the roof into a quarantine paradise. Then Dev and Niall are shooed away and Simon and Baz have a nice romantic dinner under the stars. 
> 
> The evening ends with Simon mounting Baz for the first time. The boys find they like this sex position VERY MUCH.

The Book Club, Chapter 12

  
  


Baz:

I wake up first.

I’m laying on my side, facing Simon. His back is to me, so I scoot forward a little in order to spoon him. I wrap an arm around his waist and gently pull him closer.

That wakes him up a little. “Mmm,” he says, stirring. “Baz.”

I reach up to kiss the back of his broad shoulder. (He gives a little shiver but sighs contentedly).

“Lover,” I say, giving the “L” an extra little pop with my tongue.

He rolls over, languorously. “That’s right,” he says, in a husky low voice. “And we’re going to try it the other way today, aren’t we?” He lays a hand on my hip and then lets it snake over and down the small of my back, suggestively.

An interesting idea, but I’d really like to be fresh the first time he enters me. “Tonight,” I say, firmly. “After we’ve showered and are fully awake...  _ and _ you’ve properly romanced me all day.”

He teases me with a long-suffering sigh (that better be a tease, anyway). “But that’s a million hours from now.”

“Yes, but it will be worth the wait, I promise you.”

“Okay, okay,” he says. “I’ll romance you. So what do you want to do today? Go for a walk?” He crinkles his nose and rubs his backside teasingly. “I might walk a little funny after last night’s pounding, but I’m willing to give it a try…”

“Simon-!” I swat him lightly on the arm but then can’t help but look at him solicitously. Is he kidding or serious?

“I’m kidding,” he says as he leans forward to kiss my nose.

I breathe out a sigh of relief. “How about you help me with a project? I’ve been thinking about making a sitting area for us on the roof of our building.”

“Are people even allowed up there?” 

“Of course. There’s a trapdoor on the ceiling just off our upstairs sitting area… have you ever noticed that?”

“Yeah, but I just assumed it went up to a musty old attic or something.”

“No, it goes all the way to the roof. When you open the trapdoor, metal steps come down. The roof is flat, paved, and walled… the perfect place for a sitting area.”

“That’s… awesome. We could have our own little fresh air getaway, right here in the city. So what do you want to do with the space, exactly?”

“Wouldn’t have to be much. We could just sweep it off,” I say. “Maybe carry some furniture up there. And go plant shopping…” I add, tantalizingly.

Simon’s eyes pop open, at that. (He loves plants). “Well we better get started, yeah? You want to take the first shower? I’ll make breakfast.”

Simon:

It takes us a good three hours to sweep, dust, and mop the roof to Baz’s satisfaction. (Such a neat freak). And he’s right- this idea for going outside is brilliant. There’s a stunning view up here. It’ll be perfect for sitting and relaxing… even entertaining. There’s enough room to spread out safely and be in the open air, if we wanted to have people over again.

It’s kind of a strange building, now that I have a look at it from up here. It looks like a modern house from the street, with a stucco exterior, but it’s actually kind of built like a mini-apartment building. There’s a four foot wall around the perimeter of the roof that’s about a foot thick (I wondered why our ceilings weren’t higher on the second floor. The building seemed taller than that). The exterior wall would be the perfect base for mounting some kind of privacy screen. Not that we would probably need that… the houses around us aren’t taller. 

We could string it with lights, add a few umbrellas for shade, maybe lay down a weatherproof reed mat to keep bare feet happy… and then haul in big potted plants like ferns, palms, and fruit trees (Baz has plenty of spending money). A couple of chairs and a table, and we’d be set...

Wait a minute; hold up. I’m a genius. 

What about a  _ mattress _ ?

A mattress and a privacy screen and I could shag Baz up here on the fucking roof.

(I’m a decorating genius. I really should have my own HGTV show).

  
  


Baz:

I knew Simon would like the plant store aspect of this project, but I had no idea he would dive into the cleanup with such enthusiasm. We’re both sweating and wrecked by the time we’re done; there’s definitely a lack of shade up here that we’ll have to remedy.

“Baz,” he says, “I’m getting all kinds of ideas. How about I make a little list before we go to the stores?”

“What other stores do you have in mind besides a greenhouse?”

“Well, we might want to go to a big home and garden store that has furniture, too. Get some umbrellas and maybe some comfortable lawn furniture.”

My original idea wasn’t quite that ambitious. I was just thinking of using furniture we already have, but Simon’s so excited. Maybe I should just let him take over and indulge him in this, a little.

“We can’t get too gaudy or the neighbors might complain.”

“We will be the epitome of taste. Trust me, Baz.”

  
  


Simon:

We’ve dipped into Baz’s checking account pretty heavily by the time we’re done. We actually hired store staff to come carry the furniture and large plants over and up. They’ll stay and assemble things, too.

I bought battery-powered strings of lights and paper lanterns. We have three large reed mats that we’ll turn into different functional areas-- a sitting area, a dining area, and a… recreational “resting” area (ahem).

That area will have a large futon that can function as either a couch or bed. I bought sheets, a comforter, and cushions for it. 

When we start actually bringing stuff into the apartment, Dev and Niall notice, of course. “What the holy hell is going on?” Niall asks.

“We’ll explain everything to you if you help us carry stuff up. We may even let you use the space, occasionally.”

Between the four of us, we get to work. When it’s all set up and the movers have left (we tipped them generously), Baz looks around in amazement. By then it’s about eight o’clock at night, and we’re exhausted. “This is definitely more than I had in mind when I first told you the idea this morning.”

“We’re going to love this, Baz. You won’t regret it for a moment.”

I lean forward and add, with a whisper, “And it kept me distracted as I waited for our evening alone together, didn’t it?”

Baz looks at me hotly through half-lidded eyes.

“Can Dev and I use it after you guys? We need to have a date night,” Niall adds. (That’s right. We’re not alone.)

“We’ll see,” Baz says. “It can’t be an everyday thing because the only way up is through our bedroom. But it can be a special occasion-type thing  _ with prior arrangement _ , I’m sure.”

“It’s a good thing you pay twice as much rent as us, Baz. Otherwise that would be blatantly unfair.” Niall laughs. “Well, I want to reserve it for Friday night. It’s time I took Mr. Grimm on a fancy dinner date. Simon, you might have to help me cook. And Baz, you might have to play the violin while we eat.”

“Yes, yes,” Baz says. “But it’s ours tonight. And we’ll be doing our dining  _ alone _ . So thanks for the help, guys, but hadn’t you better be on your way-?”

Niall harumphs as he and Dev are ushered back down the hatch.

“What concerns me,” Baz says thoughtfully, once they’re gone, “Is how we’re going to store things that can’t be rained on. If we leave everything out year-round it’ll be ruined in no time.”

“Well that’s a problem for another day,” I pronounce. (I’m exhausted and want to make sure we don’t skip over our plans for tonight).

“Agreed.”

Baz and I head down to clean ourselves up, but we leave the strings of fairy lights lit. I suggest to Baz, “Should I go pick us up some carry out for our first meal on the roof?”

“That sounds great. How about Chinese? I’m really in the mood for that… it’s been forever.”

“I’m ‘in the mood’, too,” I quip meaningfully.

He raises an eyebrow; he knows what I mean. But he doesn’t argue… not one word. Instead he licks his lips and nods.

(The beautiful bastard).

“Alright,” he says. “I’ve let you take the lead today, and so far the results… have been pleasing. I’ll continue to follow your ideas tonight.”

I step forward and wrap my arms around his neck. Looking up at him, I promise, “You won’t regret it.”

After that I’m focused like a laser on getting all the pre-Baz stuff done. I take the first shower so Baz can shower while I get the food. I want to hurry out the door but instead I take the time to shave, put on cologne, and attempt to do something with my hair (it’s hopeless, but he’ll know I tried).

I call my order ahead but have to wait fifteen minutes for them to bring my food out. Still, I leave a good tip. There’s no way I want bad karma for tonight. 

By the time I get home with the food, it’s dark out and Baz isn’t in our room anymore. He must be up on the roof already. I practically run up the trapdoor steps.

Once I’m on the roof I immediately feel a nice cool breeze. The city lights are twinkling on the horizon. I was right; Baz is here already. He’s done some extra things for us… the battery-powered lamps are lit and there’s soft music playing. He has the table set and there’s wine.

He’s put sheets and bedding on the futon.

My God, I love the man.

I walk our food over to the table like the mighty provider I am. Baz joins me. “I’m glad it took you so long. Gave me a little time to set the scene.”

“It’s perfect, Baz. Everything looks so romantic. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to seduce me.”

I see a flash of his white teeth and there’s a wicked glint in his eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I assure you. This mine?” he says, peering into a paper box full of mandarin chicken. 

“Yes, dear.”

After all that work today I’m famished, so we quickly dispense with the flirtation and get down to the business of eating. I ordered family size for both of us, because I know I will be able to finish it, no problem. “You want the rest of that?” I ask Baz, when he seems done.

“I couldn’t eat another bite. Take it, if you want it.” 

  
  


Baz:

This whole day with Simon has been amazing. I like working together with him on projects. I like being alone with him up here under the stars (stars which are barely visible, what with all the streetlights, but still. We know they’re there). 

I like leaning against his strong warm body as we finish our first glasses of wine. His lips are stained red.

I lean forward to kiss him.

He hums appreciatively before setting his wine glass down on the floor. Then he takes mine away too, still kissing me. He breaks away only long enough to stand us up and take my hand. 

He leads me over to the futon, which I’d made up into a bed. (I can’t claim I didn’t know this was coming… that I didn’t hope for it. Christ; who am I kidding? This is the moment I’ve been  _ longing _ for).

He sits us down so we’re perched on the edge of the mattress. He’s holding my hands and looking deeply into my eyes, like he wants to say something.

Finally, he speaks. “You didn’t think to bring the towels and lube up here, did you?”

I can’t help it. I burst out laughing (he looks kind of befuddled). I hurry up and kiss him. “Yes, love, they’re right here,” I say pulling a wicker storage drawer open from the end table beside us.

“Okay, so maybe that part didn’t sound romantic, but it’s stuff I needed to know, right?”

“I disagree. Lubrication is very romantic.”

“Right. Come here, you.”

He clambers on top of me and looks down. “I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful man,” he says, kissing me on the cheek. “I love you so much.”

“I love  _ you,  _ Simon. You’ve made everything in my life so much better.”

“You see how I strategically placed plants all around this futon? It’s like a fucking forest. No peeping Tom neighbors are going to have a look at your ass tonight, I’ll guarantee you that.”

“Thank you, dear,” I say, but then I can’t help but tease a little. “What about satellites passing overhead, though? They might see us.”

“We’ll just have to keep an eye out for those… maybe wear sunglasses. Besides, tonight it’ll be  _ my _ ass mooning up at them. I’ll hide you beneath my very happy body. You’ll be completely anonymous.”

“Deal.”

We fall back to kissing.

I’m glad Simon isn’t opposed to a little banter before sex. It really helps put me to ease. And I’m excited for tonight. I haven’t done it like  _ this  _ with someone in a long time, and I hope Simon likes it, too (I think he will). It doesn’t matter, because I’m in love with Simon no matter what and our sex life will be whatever works. 

But I really like being mounted and entered. And I can’t imagine how delicious it’s going to feel with  _ Simon _ .

Simon’s body is more broad and muscular than mine, and I really like the bulk of him. I like how it feels when he’s over the top of me, working me with his hands, ducking his head down so we’re face to face and I can feel his hot breath on my skin. It’s very tactile and real and comforting. I know if anybody tried to do anything bad to me,  _ ever _ , Simon would set it right… using his bare hands, if necessary. 

He’s strong, and yet he’s so gentle with me. He would never, ever harm me. He’ll help me do dishes and move furniture and decorate… wow. My thoughts about Simon are getting really domestic. Huh.

His knees are straddling my hips and his upper body weight is resting on one elbow so he can smooth his other hand up and down my body. After a while he slides it under my shirt.

“Let’s take this off, yeah?” He says in a low breathless voice.

I let him tug it up and over my shoulders as he leans back.

Then I watch him take his own shirt off. My hands dart up to his stomach and chest almost immediately. I take in the sight of him and explore with my hands for a minute before pulling him back down onto me. I long for full body, flesh to flesh contact with him.

But we still have pants on.

Simon seems to understand that that’s a problem. He’s working at his belt buckle now. Pretty soon we’re both stripping everything off.

  
  


Simon:

Baz is such a beautiful man. Really, it’s like he was designed to please me. He’s long and slender, but has this great muscle tone and moves so fucking gracefully. I love his glossy, layered dark hair, which has gotten even longer during quarantine and smells heavenly. And I am absolutely riveted by his pale dark-rimmed gray eyes. I’ve never seen a guy with coloring quite like his.

But better than the way he looks is the way he _ is _ . He’s calm, and kind… and smart. He’s funny as hell and he’s someone you can really count on. And he loves me back… I don’t doubt that for a minute. Everything he says, the way he looks at me, the way he touches me, the things he does for me… all of that tells me “love”. 

I roll down so I’m not just over the top of him… never mind that. There’s plenty of time for me to claim him tonight. First I need to lay down beside him and take my time. Give his body every small attention and bit of reverence it deserves.

Since I’m not terribly imaginative, I decide to start at the top and work my way down. I pepper his face with kisses… at his hairline, his chin, his lips, his jaw. His smooth skin feels and tastes flawless under my mouth. I love the clench and motion of his jaw muscles and neck as he turns and rolls his head back. 

I run my fingers through his hair- so soft- and give it a gentle tug. He moans, so I keep doing it, periodically. I caress his face and neck with my fingers and let my breathing tell his ear the secret of how much I love him.

I work my way down his shoulders and arms to his chest. He’s lean and firm… I love it. I kiss his chest and gently rub my face back and forth on it (I know he likes when I rub my face on him this way, as long as I’ve just shaved). I kiss and tongue at his nipples. 

I follow the thin line of dark hair on his stomach all the way down to his pubic area, but stop. I don’t want to stop, but I don’t want to rush a thing… I want us both to feel some anticipation. I move on to his hips and inner thighs. I rub him and kiss him all around his cock; everything but his cock.

He’s hard and the way he’s craning his hips up I know he wants me to touch him there.

I can’t wait any longer (surely twenty seconds of anticipation is enough).

I wrap my fingers around his cock and slide a wet mouth down the head, swirling my tongue around and around till I have his gasps. I lick up and down; I roll and grasp at his balls just so. Everything I do to him- everything- is stuff that he taught me. Taught me lovingly and with the most sensitive care. I’m happy to give it all back to him. So when I minister to him now, I’m fairly confident I know how to do what he likes. And if there was any doubt, his breathless sighs and moans and the trembling of his body let me know he’s very aroused.

He’s reached down and is holding my head in place by clutching my hair, as if he wants to lock me in place. Like his life depends on me continuing this faithful licking and sucking. 

He’s splendid, and I am nothing if not obedient.

I indulge him quite awhile, till he relaxes his grip and whines my name. “Simon…”.

This is our moment. I look up and stretch myself over to his lips. “I want you, Baz.” He gives me an imperceptible nod. “Yes.” 

I reach down for the lube. I put it on my fingers, first (I’m glad I’ve fingered him before, and that this part isn’t new). I kiss his face and lips as I insert the first finger into him. “Love you, Baz.”

He kisses me back earnestly. “ _ Simon _ . Oh,” he says my name like it’s a prayer.

I’m very hard, of course. How could I not be hard, touching Baz like this? He’s everything to me-- sex and love and truth and honesty. Once I started stroking inside him with my finger, his hands moved up to my shoulders. He’s clutching me.

I rub the lube all around his rim before bracing two fingers together. With a gentle attentive motion I rub him open more and slide in. He moans. I’m not as good at finding his prostate as he is at finding mine, but I try and I’m eventually rewarded with a cry, “Oh-! Oh, yes…”. 

I stay tuned to that spot, with my fingers.

“More, Simon,” he pants. I withdraw so I can add more lube, and then I knot three fingers together. I relax down next to him and tease around his rim. “Simon,” he begs.

I slip the three fingers into him, inch by inch and slowly. Once I’m sure he’s accepted their presence, I start moving, in and out. 

He’s panting rhythmically, now. I kiss him. “Darling Baz,” I whisper. “Can I? Can I have you now?”

“Oh,” he groans. “I want  _ you _ . I want you in me now.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I climb back over the top of him and reach for the lube. I rub it up and down the length of my shaft. It feels really good, but I’m excited to get inside Baz because I know that his warm tightness will feel better. I rub the rest back around his rim. I line up.

I sink in.

_ Oh. Christ. _

He’s so tight. He’s so warm and wet.

I’m careful to go slowly, at first. But Baz is clutching me and saying “oh” with each thrust.

“Is it good, Baz?” I ask, desperate for some reassurance.  _ I  _ think it feels wonderful, but I’ll stop immediately if he doesn’t like it.

“God yes,” he murmurs, fervently. “Don’t stop.”

I slip out of him a few times as I adjust my position, but he always helps me get back in. Eventually I find the right rhythm, the one we both want. I try to kiss him but it’s secondary to this movement of our hips, so eventually I abandon the kissing and just bury my face in his neck. 

Our hips rock in unison… it’s so good. How have I never done this before? But never mind; I have no regrets. I never want to do this with anyone but Baz. Baz, Baz, beautiful Baz. I’m sucking and tonguing at his neck in earnest now as I thrust harder and faster into him. But then I realize I’m going to come so I stop a moment and catch my breath. By the way Baz is left panting and whimpering, I realize I don’t need to worry. He’ll be coming soon, too.

I resume. Oh, it feels so good. My Baz; my beautiful baby. I thread the fingers of one hand into his hair; I grasp it and tug it. He moans again. Fucking delicious Baz. I pound into him as fast and hard as I can and kiss toward his open mouth.

And then… there it is. A shower of colorful light in the black of my clenched eyes. Waves riding up; waves riding down. Baz’s cry of release and whimper as our bodies tremble and buck into each other. My come inside him and his come spilled all over his stomach. 

I collapse onto him. I don’t care what kind of mess it makes.

And then I’m kissing him; we’re kissing. “Darling, darling,” is all I can say. “Simon,” he says, tenderly, holding me in his arms even though we’re both sweaty and sticky. I feel a breeze sweep over me and remember we’re still outside. (Thank god for plant cover).

  
“Before you even ask,” I murmur, “ _ That _ is a thing we will be doing very often. At least once a day, if I have anything to say about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Ampithoe for giving this chapter a good look and pointing out places (in the sex scene) where more detail was needed. All kinds of bonus moans and gasps were added as a result. Hope you enjoy!


	13. Dev and Niall’s Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dev asks Simon to help him create a romantic date night for him and Niall. Simon and Baz play restaurant under the stars as Dev and Niall get some issues straightened out.

The Book Club, Chapter 13

  
  


Simon:

The next day I wake up in a super good mood (hmm… why might that be?). I attempt to wake Baz with kisses (and the gentle poke of my boner against his leg) but all he does is crack one eye open at me, smile slightly, and close his eyes again. When I persist, he reaches behind him to grab a pillow and swats at me with it. 

I conclude from this that he’s not done sleeping yet.

Ah; never mind. I’m used to Baz’s morning moods. This doesn’t puncture  _ my _ good mood in the least.

He loves me; I love him; we have phenomenal sex. 

I’m hungry, though, so I put on boxers and a clean t-shirt and head downstairs for breakfast. Maybe after I stuff myself I’ll be able to rejoin Baz and fall asleep again.

I’m pressing down the sizzling bacon with a spatula when Niall wanders into the kitchen. “Hmm… is that for everybody?”

“It can be,” I answer. “Though I better throw some more on the pan. I’m famished.”

“Burn a lot of calories last night, did you?”

I give him a sideways glance, “Possibly.” We both have a bit of a laugh.

“So how are things going with you and Dev?” I ask. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him alone since the other day when they announced they were a couple.

“It’s going well...very well. He’s more affectionate than I ever hoped for.”

“Well I’m glad you finally talked to him about stuff. I was starting to wonder if you’d changed your mind about him.”

“As if-! Definitely not. No, I’m in deep with the lovely Mr. Grimm.” He pauses. “Which leads me to a question.”

What in the world is he going to ask? I’m not in a position to give anyone advice about anything. I’m too new to this relationship stuff.

“My question,” Niall continues, “Is whether you would help me cook a special dinner for Dev tonight. I wanted to see if he and I could use the new party spot up on the roof tonight. And you could be our waiter while Baz plays violin.  _ Please _ .”

I laugh. “Well, that sounds better than sitting around watching TV again. We could do that. Though I better check with Baz first. He might want  _ us  _ to go up there again tonight; you never know.”

  
  


Niall: 

Simon says he’ll cook, as long as he can make spaghetti (according to him that’s his specialty) and I go to the store ahead of time for the ingredients. He makes a list. He says we’ll need salad, garlic bread, and meatballs for the full restaurant experience, so he has me buying all the little bits and pieces for that.

I’ve been feeling remiss about never properly wining, dining, and wooing Dev. And we haven’t really talked about things since that first day. I want to make sure he knows this thing with him is a very big deal for me, and that I’m incredibly happy with him. I don’t ever want him to think this is just something we do when we’re stuck in quarantine.

After Simon and I eat, he makes a grocery list for me. “Get this stuff. I’ll make the food even if Baz says no to you being out on the roof tonight. But I’m sure he won’t… he’ll say yes when he hears you want to do something nice for his cousin. We’re just glad the two of you are happy.”

“Well, this is only Day 3, really, so there is still plenty of time for me to screw it up,” I say jokingly, but I’m only half-kidding. I am by no means secure in my relationship with Dev. This level of it is just so new… he could easily decide it’s not working and suggest we go back to how it was. 

I need to convince him that this is better. That this is the real deal.

“Right,” Simon says, wiping his mouth off with a napkin and standing up. “I’ll do the dishes later, okay? But first I’m going back to bed for a while.”

  
  


Dev:

Niall must have slipped downstairs while I was in the shower. He’s not here right now.

If you had told me a month ago that Niall and I would soon be in a romantic relationship, I never would have believed it. We’ve been friends (and Niall has been incorrigible) for so long. 

We went to grade school together. We lived in the same neighborhood. We watched TV and played Xbox games at each other’s houses.

I don’t know when I first started looking at him differently. Probably middle school. I have an early memory of watching him longingly across the cafeteria. He was talking to a group of girls...he had just run a hand through his hair and it was sticking up in places. He looked crazy but also so animated and alive (he has so much life in him). His jeans were rolled up and he was wearing green Converse sneakers (must have been 8th grade. That was the year he started getting into fashion). He was telling the girls a big story, talking with his hands and using all kinds of dramatic facial expressions. The girls were laughing. Finally one of them shooed him away. 

It was at that moment that he turned his head and looked over at me.

I looked back and felt my face go red. He cocked his head to one side and looked back, as if he didn’t understand. Then he smiled and walked over. I remember him saying “what” and pushing me back playfully with a nudge on my shoulder. He asked me if I liked any of those girls he was talking to. I shook my head “no” and he nodded approvingly and told me “good”; he intended to take one of them to the school dance next week. I wondered which one of them he could possibly mean; he didn’t seem to pay particular attention to any one of them.

Once we were older we started going to parties together. He dated lots of girls in high school, and never the same one for very long. He dated so many that after a while he “used up” all his options at our school and started dating the girls from other schools. He and I made lots of road trips to the surrounding towns. 

I was painfully aware I had a crush on him, but after a while it was easier to box away the feelings. It hurt to see him chase after girls, but he didn’t know how I felt about him so it wasn’t like he was being deliberately cruel. And clearly these various girls didn’t matter to him, not really. It was like he was trying them out.

I knew, too, that in high school he wasn’t actually sleeping with any of them. Flirtation was just kind of a habit or reflex for him… almost a hobby. 

What  _ really _ hurt was that once we started college it became guys, too, that he was flirting and hooking up with. I think I was in shock, the first time it happened. I saw Niall kiss a boy at a party. As I recall I had to find the bathroom immediately so I could throw up. I then proceeded to get obliterated and woke up the next morning with a helluva hangover. 

After that I realized this thing with Niall was a problem for me and I needed help. So I started going to the local LGBTQ+ office, where Baz was. I talked to him about it, I started seeing a counselor, and later that year I came out at school and to Niall. Niall was surprised and probably (I figured) mildly interested, but I wasn’t having it; there was no way I was going to let myself be trifled with by him. I made it clear there would be no casual fooling around. And he seemed to respect that and understand that anything else would certainly have complicated our friendship. 

His infatuations with guys stayed as brief as the ones he had with girls. I, on the other hand, started dating a guy from one of my classes and he was my boyfriend for over six months. 

Niall was a little weirded out by that. He liked to refer to Kyle as “Prince Charming”, but he was definitely being sarcastic. He was relatively quiet when Kyle was around, and asked me more than once “Does that guy ever smile?”

But I could never like Kyle properly, and eventually I realized the relationship wasn't fair to either of us. I ended it. Niall tried to ask me what happened a few times, what went wrong, but I wouldn’t discuss any of it with him.

Once I was single again I  _ knew _ it was a matter of time before Niall hit on me in some small way. But I resolved ahead of time to laugh it off and not give in to the temptation, because my knowledge of him meant I couldn’t fully trust him. He liked playing the field and was so easily distracted by a blush or a giggle or a set of broad shoulders.

When he came to my room that night after the party, before quarantine, I was momentarily tempted to give in, but that quickly turned into anger. So I resisted and he left, apologizing later.

But when he came to me more recently as I folded towels, it really seemed different. I let myself be swept away. I let myself believe that maybe,  _ maybe _ , we had a chance. 

It’s still too early to say if that was a brave move on my part or just hopeful stupidity.

As good as it’s been with us, I’ve had moments these past few days when I’ve doubted everything -- doubted if he truly feels the same as me, doubted whether his feelings will last.

I don’t want things to fall apart for us, but I want to be prepared mentally, in case that’s what happens. The hardest part is realizing that now we’ve crossed the line and I probably won’t be able to go back to just being his friend. I’m not up to enduring that level of hurt. 

It’s actually crossed my mind that if we break up I’ll probably end up moving away and transferring to another school.

Of course I would never say that to Niall. I don’t want to manipulate him into staying with me; I want it to be of his own free will, because he truly wants me.

  
  


Niall:

I  _ almost _ feel guilty piling my breakfast dishes into the sink, but then Simon said he’d do them later. I decide to go see if Dev’s out of the shower yet.

He is. He’s dressed and brushing his teeth in front of the foggy mirror. I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, planting a kiss on his neck. He bends over to spit out his toothpaste, and then, wiping his mouth off, asks, “So did Simon make you breakfast?”

“Yes, and get this: he’s making dinner tonight, too. For  _ us _ .”

That doesn’t sound like terribly exciting news, since Simon usually cooks dinner a couple of times a week. But the way I say it gets Dev curious.

“What’s he making, steak?” Dev asks.

“It’s not the food that’s exciting, Dev, it’s the location. He said we could have dinner up on the roof tonight.” I decide to make a grand gesture. Taking his hand, I ask, “May I have the honor of you dining with me tonight? At Chez Simon & Baz?”

“What are you talking about, Niall?”

“We’re going to pretend like we’re having a restaurant date. Simon said he’d dress up like a waiter and everything. He’s going to help me talk Baz into playing violin for us.”

“Oh, wow,” Dev says, surprised. “That sounds…interesting. What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion; I just want a romantic evening with my man. Unless you… maybe don’t want that?” My confidence falters. I mean, I don’t want to assume anything. After all, I don’t think there’s anything compelling about  _ me _ . I’m about as ordinary as they come.

Dev, on the other hand. 

Dev. He’s just about perfect, isn’t he? His eyes are light… somewhere between brown and hazel. And he’s got that shiny dark hair like Baz has, except his is a little lighter-colored and cut shorter (not so short these days, though, since we’ve been staying in). He’s slim and tall and elegant, and twice as posh as me… more than twice, actually, seeing as I’m not posh at all. He dresses well, he’s serious and capable. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does people always listen. 

When he talks it’s true and to the point. 

He’s brilliant and snarky, but he’s kind, and he never goes for the low blow. He’s classy, and he makes good judgements. Well, maybe not perfect judgements, since he’s gone and taken up with me. But if he’s reading my intentions, and not just my abilities and track record, he must know that I’m set on him and on being a good boyfriend. 

I haven’t proven to him or myself that that’s a thing I can do, yet, but I’m determined to try and give it my best shot.

“I would love to have dinner with you outside on the roof. Christ; I don’t even care if Simon cooks or not. I’d eat a bowl of cereal out on the roof, with you,” Dev states with quiet conviction.

Something in my stomach flutters when he says that. “Because you love me so much or because you miss being outdoors?”

Dev’s eyes glimmer a little. “Both, truthfully.”

I pull up to him, my hands on his face. He closes his eyes and I lean in to him. “Still love me, do you?”

“If you want me to say it you need to say it first,” Dev answers, almost coyly.

I reach for his hand and pull him over to the bed. “I’ll say it to you right here. Lay down.”

Dev lays back on the still unmade bed. I crawl in and lay down beside him. We lay on our sides and look into each other’s eyes, for a minute. “I love you,” I whisper. My voice cracks.

“I love you,” he whispers back. His eyes are so wide and serious. I don’t know why everything we say to each other right now seems fraught with extra emotion. I close my eyes and press forward till we’re kissing.

It feels so good. His lips against mine; my tongue in his mouth. Our breathing and his hands that grip my shirt. I try to slip a hand under his shirt but apparently it’s tucked in.

“Dev,” I say, groaning. “Dev, why’d you put all these clothes on?”

“So you can take them off.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I tug his shirt up from where he has it tucked and start unbuttoning. As each button opens I spread his shirt apart and smooth my hands and lips over the exposed skin. He feels so smooth and warm; he smells so familiar and right. When the last button is undone I push the open shirt down his shoulders and he shrugs out of it.

I undress him slowly, pants, socks, and underwear, till he’s naked and I’m fully dressed. For some reason I like the contrast. With the door shut and locked and my eyes raking over him hungrily, I can pretend he’s my own special little trinket, my secret, my bedroom boy. (But of course he’s more than that to me… so much more). I’m especially glad to take in the sight of his erect cock. 

Lord knows I despaired of ever getting to see  _ that _ . But there it is, ready and at my disposal. I slide a trembling hand over it, and he moans.

“Dev,” I say, “Now I get it. Now I know why nobody else ever worked.”

“What do you mean, Niall?” he asks as I stroke him up and down, opening the eyes that had just fluttered shut in sensual delight. (Suppose I shouldn’t be talking so much).

“I don’t know. Silly, really. I was just thinking about how no one else I ever dated measured up to you. Ever made me feel this good, or this wanted. I suppose you’ve spoiled me for everyone else now. Don’t know what I’ll ever do if you dump me. Might as well become a monk and live on a mountain top.”

He reaches down and grabs my hand, which has been stroking his cock up and down this whole time. “Wait; stop. You’re distracting me. You’re saying something really good and I don’t want to miss it.”

I take my hand off him and ask, in disbelief, “You prefer hearing me talk? To  _ that _ ?”

“Depends what you’re saying.”

“So if it has to do about how much I love you compared with every other human I have ever encountered, and therefore I will only ever be content with  _ you _ now, for the rest of my life... you’d rather hear that than me get you off?” 

“I just want you to do things in the proper order. Tell me these things and  _ then  _ start getting me off. I guarantee it will make me go nuclear.” He’s kissing me all over my face and neck, his arms wrapped around me, his eyes bright and sparkling. God, he’s handsome.

“What else do you like to hear me say?”

“I like to hear anything you have to say that’s honest and from the heart. Don’t exaggerate or make stuff up just to make me happy, Niall. Please only tell me true things.”

“Well, all that’s true because…because look at you. You’re perfect and you’re everything I want and I don’t want to go through life without you. I’d be so damn lonely without you. I don’t know how it got like this between us so fast,” I say, bewildered. “I mean, I guess it wasn’t fast. We’ve known each other a long time. But once the kissing started...everything changed, you know?”

“I know. I’m feeling it, too. I’m scared, actually. What if this isn’t what I think it is, what if it’s mostly one-sided and it turns out you’re always this romantic when you have people alone in a bedroom.”

That makes me laugh out loud. “Christ, you think I’ve been like this with anyone else? Absolutely not. I might have been handsy with some but I never said stuff like this. No, this is how I am with you, Dev, only you.”

  
  


Dev:

I can’t believe these wonderful things he’s saying to me. It’s like someone handed him a list of all the things I’m worried about and want to hear explained, and he’s addressing each concern.

He seems to be worried about those same things.

I make him stop fondling me by holding his hands between my own. I look into his eyes and don’t see any lies. His eyes shine back at me...if I were writing a romance novel I’d say he looks “ardent.”

For me. He’s ardent for me.

I let go of him long enough to run a hand over his cheek and through the hair just above his ears. Now that it’s getting longer I see how wavy and thick it is. I tuck some behind his ear.

“I think  _ you’re _ wearing too many clothes,” I chide him, gently. I help him undress and then we both slip under the blankets. I stop trying to control his hands and (happily) he goes right back to my cock.

  
  


*********************

Simon:

When I told Baz about the dinner plans, he grumped a little about having to loan out the roof already, after our using it only just once, but then he agreed Niall’s idea of creating a dinner date experience for Dev is cute. When I mentioned the violin idea he actually seemed to like that part quite a bit; he has to practice anyway, and this would be an interesting challenge to play a bunch of songs without using sheet music. (He might have to improvise and make things up as he goes a little).

I spend a couple of hours making a killer sauce for the spaghetti and prepping everything so that the actual cooking goes fast and easily. I’ll have to “seat” Dev and Niall, then come downstairs and put my apron on, finish the food up, take the apron off, and transform back into the waiter who serves them.

It’s been a lot of stifled creativity, being in quarantine, so I’m not surprised when Baz starts getting into planning all the little details of their restaurant experience. He brings up additional candles and lighting from our bedroom, puts a tablecloth on the table, and prepares a fruit and cheese appetizer. He has us both dress in clothes of his-- white dress shirts with black bow ties and black dress pants. When we’re dressed we stand in front of the mirror and admire how we look. “Not bad,” I say, smiling.

“Have you seen your ass in those pants? You look spectacular,” Baz informs me.

“Oh really?” I ask, looking over my shoulder and shrugging. “Say, I have an idea. Why don’t we use some of your nice resume paper to make a menu sheet for tonight’s offerings? Something I can hand to them as I seat them.”

“That would be easy enough. I’ll use a fancy font of some sort.”

  
  


Dev:

Niall insisted we dress up for tonight: suits. It feels kind of strange to be wearing ties and shoes and all that in our own house, but it also helps create the feeling like we’re going somewhere; we’re going on a date. 

He looks fabulous. His suit is dark green, but it brings out the green of his eyes and his red hair looks absolutely ravishing against it. There’s a flush on his upper cheekbones and because he’s wearing shoes he looks taller than I’m used to seeing. Long and lean.

He whistles when he sees me. “Look at you, Dev. You’re perfect.”

It makes me blush because I know he’s not just saying that. He really does like the way that I look. There might as well be stars in his eyes.

He extends his arms to me. “Shall we, Mr. Grimm?”

I take his arm and smile into his eyes. “Let’s.” 

We walk across the apartment like that, to the already-lowered trapdoor. Niall motions for me to go first.

The narrow stairway opens up into fresh air and the skyline of the city. Softly glowing candles, lanterns, and lamps help create the mood. When they see us, Baz gets up and starts playing something soft and silky on his violin. Simon the waiter, bow tie and all, walks over briskly to greet us.

“Good evening, sirs,” he says, bowing slightly, a crisp linen towel draped over his arm. “Will you be joining us for dinner this evening?”

“Yes, please,” says Niall. “A table for two.”

“But of course,” Simon says, as poshly as he can. “Right this way, please.”

Then he makes a big show of guiding us through the “rooms” of the roof. He walks us through the seating area, past the futon bed (saying, humorously, “Oh, pardon me for showing you that, sirs. Please don’t get any funny ideas. Ahem”), to the table dressed with a clean white cloth. He pulls out Dev’s chair for him and seats him first. I seat myself. Simon lights the candle in the middle of the table and hands us two menus.

“Our special for the evening is an elegant Italian dinner. Could I interest you gentlemen in a glass of wine while you decide?”

“Yes. Could we have a white zinfandel, please?”

“Of course.” Then he bows and walks off. 

Meanwhile, Baz steps a little closer, so he is about ten feet away from our table. He’s playing his violin as softly and unobtrusively as possible.

I reach out across the table and Dev puts his hands in mine. He smiles softly at me. 

“This was a great idea,” he whispers. “Thank you for doing it.”

“You deserve so much more. If this quarantine ever ends I’m taking you  _ everywhere _ .”

“Where shall we go first?”

“Well, how about we sail down the Amazon River?”

“Too many mosquitoes. Too many ways to die. Piranhas, and all that.”

“Okay, trip to Egypt, then?”

“That sounds hot. Maybe somewhere more temperate.”

“How about a trip to Europe? Maybe start with England?”

“Yes. Let’s do  _ that _ .”

Simon’s back with our wine. He lets me sample a small taste of the bottle to see if what he’s brought me is adequate. I make a show of sniffing it and swirling the first taste around in my mouth, just as I’ve seen my dad do countless times.

I nod my approval with what I taste. Simon pours our glasses.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Dev,” I say, “Do you know what you want?”

“Well, I believe I’ll take...the spaghetti.”

“Excellent choice, sir,” Simon interjects, before looking at me. “And you, sir?”

I make a show of thinking it over, furrowing my brow as I pour over the one page, mostly blank menu. “I believe I’ll take…the spaghetti.”

“Excellent choice, sir.” Simon gathers the menus up from us before making haste down the stairs.

We sip our wine and talk. After a while I push my chair out a bit and stand. “May I have this dance?”

Dev puts his hand in mine and stands up. “You may,” he murmurs. He puts a hand on my shoulder as I put one on his waist. Our other hands are raised and together. Like that, we begin swaying and moving around the room to the sound of Baz’s violin.

He rests his cheek against my cheek. If it weren’t for Baz being in the room, I’d probably press our hips together...but Dev wouldn’t want an audience. I hear him murmur something soft into my ear.

“What’s that?” I ask. It was so soft I couldn’t hear him. When he doesn’t answer, I pull away to look at him.

“I said I don’t want this to end.”

“The dance?”

“No,” he admits. “The quarantine.”

I think I know what he’s getting at. I squeeze his hand and ask softly, “Now why would you say something silly like that?”

“You know why.”

“Say it.”

He stops dancing but I don’t let him go; I won’t.

“Because when quarantine’s over we go back out into the world. And there’s all these other people there.”

“So?”

“Some of those people are attractive.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Someday we’re going to have a spat. Or you’re going to get bored. Or a really good opportunity is going to come along.”

“Dev, how daft do you think I am?”

“I’m just trying to be realistic, here.”

“You’re not a passing fancy for me, Dev. I’ve had those; this with you is different.”

“How do you know?” Dev asks. Well now he’s just being stubborn.

“Because I’ve never committed to anyone, before you. I never made promises to anyone else. Every single time, I knew what it was: nothing. A romp. No one’s ever come close to what we have, Dev. That has never been confused in my mind.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because it couldn’t be more different. I love you.”

He puts his head down. He still doesn’t let himself believe me, and it’s frustrating. For the first time in my life I start to regret my past. I’ve never hurt anyone; I haven’t been deceitful. I never led anyone to believe it was more than what it was.

But I enjoyed it. I enjoyed scanning the room at a party until my eyes snagged with someone else’s eyes. I enjoyed the slow maneuvering closer; the first halting words. The first kiss. Discreet touches…maybe the small of her back? Maybe his hand?

There are dozens and dozens of those first encounters in my memory.

And most of them are in Dev’s memory, too. Because he was there at those parties with me.

I’ve never considered the enormity of that until this moment.

I actually start getting a feeling in the back of my throat like something is building. A panic attack?

But before I can say more, Simon is climbing back upstairs with our salads and bread.

“Come on,” I say, tugging on Dev to come back to our table. “Simon’s here.”

We go back and sit. Simon withdraws back by Baz. “The musician is taking a ten minute break!” He calls from across the room. Then he and Baz duck behind a particularly tall potted plant.

I try to snort but it comes out wrong. I pick up my fork and start picking at my salad. I’m so upset I’m not even sure I can eat right now.

“I’m sorry, Niall,” Dev whispers.

Is he breaking up with me?

I don’t know what to say. I can’t say a thing.

“It’s just that I get so insecure...”

Hold up. That sounds like the kind of thing someone might say when they’re trying to work stuff out. Maybe he’s  _ not _ breaking up with me.

I go from crushed to hopeful in five seconds.

“Dev, you never have to worry about my flirting again.” I realize that’s a strong statement and I should clarify that point. “I mean, I’m not saying I’m never going to flirt again. I might. Old habits die hard. But it’s never going to lead away from you.”

“Niall, we’ve only been together three days like this, so this conversation…I have no right to even be having this conversation with you.”

“Yes you do,” I say quickly.

“I need you to assure me that all this is real and that I can trust you.”

“How can I earn your trust, Dev?”

“That will come over time, when I see for myself how you are,” he says. “But it may help things move along faster if you made me a few promises.”

“Like what?”

He looks sheepish. “Go ahead,” I say. “Tell me.”

“Promise me you’ll be faithful. Or at least tell me when it changes and you find you can’t. Don’t fool with me, Dev.”

“I won’t. I promise I won’t.”

“What will you do if someone gives you their phone number?”

“Throw it away.”

“And…?”

“Avoid future conversation with that person?”

“And…?”

Oh Christ; what’s the answer?

“Avoid conversation with friends of that person?” I venture.

He looks at me like I’m daft. “No…  _ tell  _ me about it. Don’t hide that kind of thing from me. I want to be in the know at all times. No intrigues.”

“Okay, I promise.”

We’re startled when Simon clears his throat. He’s looking at our untouched salad plates accusingly. “Look, I’m going to bring your main dish out, alright? Baz and I are getting kind of tired of standing by and…you know. We’re going to hit the hay.”

I’m not annoyed they couldn’t maintain interest in the “restaurant” long enough for us to finish dinner. I want Dev alone.

“Yes, bring us the rest of the food and you’re dismissed.”

“So kind,” Baz says drily, in the background.

After Simon comes back with two steaming plates of pasta and sauce, he and Baz make their exit. We’re alone.

“Look, Dev… I get it. I really do. You saw me date around quite a bit. But I need to know whether someday you will be able to let that go. I need to know I’m trusted. It’s not like I lied or deceived or broke promises, is it? I never made romantic promises before you. I deserve trust as much as anyone does.”

He pauses. “You’re right. You do.”

“Will you make  _ me _ some promises?”

“Alright. Like what?”

I’m quiet as I hastily put together my thoughts. “Give me a chance. Don’t always think the worst of me.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

“Don’t hold secret grudges. If you think I’m doing something wrong, give me a chance to work on it. Don’t just dump me out of nowhere.”

“Okay. That’s fair. Anything else?”

“Tell me the truth. Did you ever have sex with Kyle?”

He pauses. “We dated six months.”

“So? You could have been holding him at bay.”

“Niall. We had sex, yes.”

This makes me feel quite jealous, actually. Somehow his being serious with one person for a long period of time is worse than my trifling with many people for short periods of time. 

But that's just my jealousy talking...my own personal issue. I can’t hold any of that against Dev. It’s my own damn fault for not realizing my feelings sooner.

“Sorry I’m a dick who made you come out and say it, Dev.” I am sorry. “But never mind. We have each other now, right? And I’m the luckiest guy in the world. I’m never letting you go.”

“He and I never loved each other…it never got that far. It was always you, Niall. I only ever loved  _ you.” _

I clear my throat and swallow. I reach for his hand and squeeze it.

“Simon’s going to kill us if we don’t eat this spaghetti.”

********

Simon:

We knew things were getting serious in their discussion up there… as soon as I realized it wasn’t going to be a light-hearted evening I pulled Baz behind a plant and whispered, “We need to get them their food and make ourselves scarce.”

Once we left the roof, we put a movie in and sat on the couch. About an hour later, they descended quietly.

“Thanks for everything, guys,” Niall said.

“You had a good time, then?”

“Oh yes,” Dev answers, looking at Niall. Niall looks back at him in a way that says he speaks for them both.

“Good, good. G’night, then.”

“Good night.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I have an outline for this, but it's flexible so if you want little things added along the way, I'll accept any suggestions I can work in. Also, PLEASE leave me feedback! I really appreciate any and all kudos and comments.


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